Amon Acquires a Nuisance
by HydeandAis
Summary: Updated August 7th! Story by Hyde. Amon is bugged by a psychic, Robin has allergies, and Touko is into Elizabethian English... Please read with a sense of humor.
1. Default Chapter

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Disclaimer: I do not own

This is once again a Hyde fic, not a HydeandAis fic. Although there shall soon be a HydeandAis fic, called Amon and the Exploding Taco Salad. It might already be posted, depending on when you're reading this.

My second fic. A little stranger than the first, as you soon shall read. But it's fun. For me anyway. I _hope_ you have fun reading it, but it isn't a guarantee. BTW, read this with a sense of humor. We do not want to repeat the Taco Joe Incident, now do we?

Someone tapped on the window of Amon's car as he sat at the traffic light. Annoyed, he rolled it down and glared at the young woman in a black T-shirt who was the origin of the knock.

"Sir," she said, "It's allergy season."

Amon looked askance at her. "Yes."

"That is the message the spirits have told me to give to you."

"What spirits?"

"The Spirit of the Omnipotent Mother Goddess and the Spirits of Her Muses, which help her to direct life on this earth." **(Hyde A/N: I certainly hope you know what omnipotent means, but if you don't, it means all-powerful.)**

"Omnipotent Mother Goddess?"

"She has many names. That is the one by which we know her."

Amon was confused. He would never admit it, but he was in fact completely lost. For lack of anything else to do, he rolled up the window and made a left-hand turn. Then he realized that it was a very stupid thing to do, because Touko and Robin's apartment was to the right. He made some twisty maneuvers along side streets and finally ended up where he wanted to be. He sent a mental Sullen Glare Which Dumps Imaginary French Fries On The Heads Of All Who Distract Dark Individuals When They Are Intending To Make A Right-Hand Turn to the girl in black.

"Amon, thy clothes of blackest night do become thee," said Touko.

Amon squinted, raised one eyebrow, and blinked twice. (This shows you how disturbed he was.)

"Mine greatest friend hath opened mine eyes to the joys of prose," she said in explanation.

Amon blinked three times. His disturbedness was interrupted by a violent sneeze in the background. Suddenly, a cupboard went up in flames.

"Alas!" Touko cried, "Mine flower-printed dishes which were given unto me by mine adoring father!"

Robin appeared. "I'm sorry, Touko."

Amon looked her over. Her eyes were watering, and she sniffled. He raised one eyebrow at her.

"Allergies," she said. Amon shuddered inwardly. Fire-throwing witches and allergies did not mix.

"'Tis not known what her allergy is, though it be a strong one. She hath fallen prey to it, and none can save her from its deadly snare!"

"What did she just say?" Robin asked Amon quietly. He shrugged darkly and propelled Touko from the room.

"Amon, thy kindness overwhelms mine heart. Thy money spent for mine enjoyment and for the filling of mine stomach…I give thee ever thanks, and bring thee ever tribute."

The only thing Amon actually understood was the 'thanks' so he said, "You're welcome. Dessert?"

"Oh, Amon, thou art man most wondrous indeed."

Amon motioned the waiter. "Two desserts." He gave the waiter a Sullen Stare That Causes The Recipient To Feel Slow And Pathetic And Encourages Said Recipient To Use All Haste.

"Amon, thou art so assertive. Mine well-being is safe within thy dominating grasp."

Needless to say, all this was driving Amon crazy. Inwardly crazy, of course. A dark individual can be tortured in mind, but not visibly. It would ruin their image. He took Touko home a little early, feeling that he couldn't handle her too much longer. When they got there, they were greeted by a flaming ceiling fan.

The ceiling fan threw bits of flaming wood all over the room. Amon shoved Touko in the closet to protect her, but after grabbing her coat to use to smother the flaming apparatus. (He couldn't use the Macho Black Coat; what if it caught on fire?)

Touko came out of the closet, choking on the smoke. "Wherefore…cough…is Robin, who spurts fire from her eyes?"

Amon shrugged. He walked into the livingroom. She was asleep on the couch.

"She could have burned down the apartment," Amon said, shaking his head.

"Indeed, she could have been the instrument of her own horrible death, and the death of mine lovely coffeemaker."

Out of the corner of his eye, Amon saw Touko checking her coffeemaker for burns. _She is getting strange lately. Everything is strange lately._

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Well, hope you liked it. There is more to come when I get around to writing it, promise. Review, even if you hated it. Any technical and subjective suggestions will be taken into consideration.

May my uncle never take many and numerous pictures of you cutting pies,

Hyde


	2. In which comes the second Word of the Go...

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Disclaimer: I own nothing in here and if you have some weird delusion that I do, you are sadly mistaken.

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Hyde A/N: Hello again. Sorry this one's kinda long but I had so many ideas…

Thank you St Earns for informing me about the proper usage of the word 'wherefore'. Touko shall take that into consideration.

Amon was walking down the street, looking for a seed that was supposed to be in the area.

"He should be right around that corner," Amon's communicator said. (Well, actually it was Michael, but…)

Amon drew the orbo gun from his pocket. Flattening himself against the wall, he inched up to the corner in the sneakiest, darkest, most menacing way possible.

Plop. Something landed on Amon's head. He professionally remained from jumping five feet in the air, but he did raise an eyebrow and feel his head.

Bird poop.

He gave the offending bird a Sullen Glare That Makes Birdie Soup Out Of All Birds Who Poop On The Heads Of Dark, Sneaky, Menacing Individuals Who Are Witch-Hunting And Thus Cramp Said Individuals' Style. He readied himself for the plunge around the corner.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder.

To his credit, he did not jump twelve feet in the air, (just six. No, just kidding.) but whipped his head around, fully intending to startle whoever was there, thus putting them at a disadvantage so he could dispose of them.

It was the girl in black, and she looked far from startled. _Great, _he thought, _the Immortal Mother Goddess lady._

"Omnipotent Mother Goddess," she said. He looked at her with furrowed brows. "When beginning to issue a statement from the Goddess she allows me to read the minds of the receivers for exactly twelve seconds."

He raised his left eyebrow and looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

"You must leave," he whispered then. "I am hunting. There is presumably a witch around that corner."

"When the time comes, mourn for Stewart." She intoned, and her eyes glazed slightly. "Seeya later." And she walked away.

"Wait!" Amon called. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Ask the Muses of the Goddess," she told him as she disappeared around the corner.

Amon shook his head and plunged around the corner.

He came face to face with a witch who was recklessly throwing fire at every object in his path.

"Hold it right there," Amon growled. The witch backed up against the wall.

"What's that on your head?" the witch asked. "It looks like…is it…bird poop?"

Amon just growled.

"A-ha…ha…ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" The witch doubled over with laughter. Amon sent him a Sullen Glare That Turns Into Poached Eggs All Inconsiderate Fire Throwing Witches Who Laugh At Ominous Individuals With Bird Poop On Their Heads. **(Hyde A/N: The Frying Pan of Doom! Whahahahahaha! Another inside joke, for all those of you who are looking at me blankly.)** He then finished him off with a well-aimed bullet from his precious orbo gun.

Back at the apartment, Robin was being ministered to by Touko, who had much pity for Robin, being that she was rendered practically immobile by her allergies.

"Thou poor sickly child. I shall tend thee, though the day grows long and I long for mine love, mine Amon, mine precious…But pray, tell me, how dost thou feel?"

Robin sneezed, scorching the tissue she was holding in her left hand.

"Indeed, thou must feel miserable, I doubt it not. Is there anything which I, thy humble nursemaid, canst do for thee, in thy misery?"

"Nay…I mean, no, unless you can cure me." _Ahk! This stuff is starting to rub off!_

"Mayhap a good reading of his most wonderful majesty Shakespeare will cheer thee."

"Shakespeare?"

"Indeed. Here, allow me to get for you mine great Book of All Things Shakespeare. Thou canst while away the time while partaking of its beauteous treasures."

"But Touko, what if I burn it?"

"Ah, there thou hast a most compelling point. If that be the case, allow myself to read it to thee. Surely thou cannot but be overwhelmed by its beauteous language." And Touko ran for the Shakespeare.

Poor Robin understood hardly a word and found it difficult to follow the story line. Touko was just finishing up the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet (in tears) when Robin made an unfortunate sneeze.

Amon stopped by a bar on his way home to wash the bird poop out of his hair. When he came out, he decided that circumstances made it impossible for him not to order a beer.

He walked up to the counter. The bartender was talking to himself in the mirror that was behind the shelves of bottles. Muttering to himself, rather.

"Beer, please," Amon said.

The bartender broke off his (I'm sure wonderfully entertaining) conversation and wordlessly handed Amon a bottle. It said Pudweiser. Not Amon's favorite, but it was just one of those days when it didn't matter…

****

(Hyde A/N: A bit of explanation about Pudweiser if you need one. See, in the series they have Bepsi instead of Pepsi, so I figure they should have Pudweiser instead of Budweiser.)

As Amon listlessly and darkly drained his beer, he studied the bartender closely. It was hard not to; the man was talking to himself again. He was one of those oldish men who wear grey-ish white mustaches. Amon had a big objection to mustaches. A Sullen Glare just didn't have the same effect with a mustache. Plus, those with mustaches seemed to have an unreasonable immunity to Sullen Glares That Paint Red Squiggles On All Who Fall On Their Faces At A Time Most Inconvenient To Ominous Persons Who Happen To Be Doing Something Important.

That muttering was getting annoying. Amon caught 'tree-trimmer' and 'cement cookies' and decided he didn't really want to know. He switched his attention to a sloppily dressed girl in the corner. She was drinking a margarita and feeding her baby something that had a suspicious resemblance to orange soda. Amon got a gut feeling that feeding a baby orange soda wasn't quite right, but he wasn't sure why. Ominous individuals don't spend their time pondering child nutrition.

Swallowing the last of his beer, he stood and decided to go visit Touko. Even if she was speaking in what seemed to be a foreign language, it was better than sitting there drinking beer after beer and listening to some guy ponder cement cookies and pondering orange soda.

When he arrived, he heard screams and wails coming from the apartment. Drawing his orbo gun, he dashed up to the door. Standing aside the doorframe, he knocked on the door. The screams and wails did not abate.

He opened the door and entered pandemonium.

The smoking rubble of what seemed to be a coffee maker sat on Touko's lap. Touko was wailing. And screaming the following:

"Nay! Speak but a word to me, dearest. Come back to me! Thou canst not see with thine little microchip what my life wouldst be without thee! Go not, but tarry a while here, where thou art loved!"

Robin was nowhere to be seen, but somehow Amon thought she must be at the bottom of this.

Suddenly, Touko took her eyes off the coffee maker and saw Amon.

"Amon, dearest," she said, with tears streaming down her face. "See what hath happened to…Stewart!"

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Could you see that one coming? Oh well. It doesn't matter that much.

Stay tuned for Amon Acquires A Nuisance ch 3, beginning with the memorial for Stewart. Oh, and don't forget to review. Virtual peanut butter on toast will be served.

You know, I feel really weird today. Like, hyper almost. Shakes head back and forth to clear it

Sorry it's been so long. You'd think during the summer I'd have more time to write.

May your cheeseball never be green unless it is lime,

Hyde


	3. in which Stewart is mourned

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Disclaimer: I, Hyde, author of this chapter, own nothing contained in it, or anything remotely connected to it, and if you are under some strange delusion that I do, you have been seriously misinformed.

Hyde A/N: Well, here goes another chapter. I have only had six reviews as of Saturday afternoon, so you should review when you get done, okay? I switched it so I can now accept anonymous reviews. I didn't even know I couldn't until the other day.

Touko wept as she surveyed the remains of Stewart, her precious coffee maker. He was in a small wooden casket, with flowers around him, masking his burnt condition. She looked up at Amon, who was standing next to her. His face was impassive as usual. Solemn, suiting to the occasion, but impassive.

His thoughts were wandering far from Stewart, lying in state not far away. Aside from the fact that he wished Stewart had never died, he was hardly thinking of the poor coffee maker at all.

__

That Immort…I mean, Omnipotent Mother Goddess girl sure called that one. Touko never told me about Stewart. If she had, I'd have guarded that coffee maker with my life. Um, if I'd have believed her anyway. It still could just be a coincidence. If I didn't know Miho, if I didn't hunt witches everyday…

Then, Touko rose to say a few parting words to her beloved, interrupting Amon's train of thought.

"This coffee maker which thou seest here before thine eyes…it was beloved. When Stewart endured the devastating fire wherein life was smitten from him, mine own heart was in agony. I hope thou wilt join me, as I take a moment to remember Stewart, mine beloved coffee maker. He was more than just a coffee maker." Here, Touko's voice began to rise. "He was the creature always there, when mine eyes were heavy with sleep at the morning. Many a pot he brewed, yet never did he tire. It was not of disloyalty, or exhaustion that he left me. He was taken. Taken. And now," Touko's voice softened, "remember thou with me."

All bowed their heads, not quite sure what else to do. Few of them had even seen it…him, before. Amon, too, bowed his head, and Touko's heart was gladdened. Little did she know that his mind was not on Stewart. It was on the Omnipotent Mother Goddess girl.

They filed out silently, each to their respective vehicles, all whispering good-byes and condolences to Touko before leaving. Amon was the first one out. He went down to his car, and to his surprise, there stood the Omnipotent Mother Goddess girl.

"What are you doing here?" he growled, giving her a Sullen Glare That Removes From Their Positions All Those Who Repeatedly Give Advice From Some Obscure Goddess To Dark, Self-Sufficient Individuals.

Apparently, this psychic, or prophet, or whoever she was, had some strange immunity to Sullen Glares. They never fazed her, not for a millisecond.

"The Goddess tells me she has yet another message for you."

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Why me? Amon thought exasperatedly.

"It is not for you to question the choice of the Goddess or Her Muses."

__

Oh, I forgot. The mind reading thing.

"Indeed."

__

I hardly know anything about this girl and here she is tracking me down at a memorial for a coffee maker.

"I can tell you two things about me. My name is Abigail, and I eat nothing but blackberries and mashed potatoes, for such is how I honor the Goddess, who holds these foods in high esteem." Then, on second thought, she added, "Memorial for a coffee maker?"

"Don't ask. You don't want to know."

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(Hyde A/N: Only Ais can fully appreciate the humor of blackberries and mashed potatoes. Ah, the immortal Abigail! Whahahaha! Stop staring at me blankly, its just a very inside joke. I couldn't resist.)

"So what does the Goddess have to say this time?" Amon asked.

"Beware Health and Beauty." Her eyes glazed momentarily, as usual, and then she left without another word.

Someone tapped Amon on the shoulder. He suppressed the instinct to jump ten feet in the air and whirled around. Doujima, who had just tapped him on the shoulder, jumped.

"Ahk! Man, you'd think I'd get used to you doing that after a while."

Amon grunted.

"Who was that girl?"

"She…wanted directions."

"Oh. Say, will you come with me to the grocery store? I want to get some allergy medicine for Robin and I need someone who's seen her symptoms."

Amon nodded. "We taking my car?"

"Yep. I walked."

"So where exactly is this allergy medicine?" Amon asked as they walked in the door.

"Over there," Doujima gestured vaguely to her left. "Between the pharmacy and the Health and Beauty section."

Alarms went off in Amon's head, along with music imitating alarms. _Health and Beauty? No. I…must…not…be…seen…in…Health…and…Beauty. No._

"We're not going _in_ Health and Beauty?" he asked.

"No, don't worry." Doujima laughed.

Nevertheless, Amon had a sudden, frightening flashback. He heard Abigail saying, "Beware Health and Beauty," as clear as if she was there. In fact, he looked around to be sure she wasn't. Amon followed Doujima, tortured at every step, his fear unappeased.

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(Hyde A/N: Amon is now upset because I have revealed to the world his only fear: Health and Beauty sections.)

Back at Touko's apartment, Robin was talking to Karasuma on the phone, to a background of Touko's sniffles, and occasional urgings that Robin not burn the phone.

"I had a similar experience with some guy named Bob," Robin was saying.

Touko suddenly burst into violent tears.

"What? Miho, I can't hear you. It's Touko…TOUKO! Yes, she's…oh, okay. GOODBYE!"

Robin hung up with stifled disgust and turned to Touko. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Bob!" Touko sobbed.

"Bob?"

"'Twas…sob, sniff…Stewart's nickname!" (Heavy sobs by Touko)

"Bob?"

"Yes! I admit to thee I never liked it overmuch, but…" Touko couldn't go on, and collapsed onto the sofa, sobbing violently.

Robin decided it was time to call Amon. She picked up her communicator.

Amon's communicator beeped. He glanced at it.

"Who is it?" Doujima asked.

"Robin…Amon here," he said into it darkly.

"Amon, I have a problem."

"What's that noise?"

"It's my problem."

"Amon," Doujima interrupted, "Do you think runny nose, sneezing, itching, sore throat, sneezing and itching, sneezing/runny nose/ watery eyes, sneezing and watery eyes, or itching and sore throat?"

"Could you run that by me again?"

"I said it's my problem," Robin said.

"No, not you," Amon said to his communicator.

"Well?" Doujima insisted.

"Hold on, Robin." Amon looked them over and chose 'sneezing and watery eyes'.

"Thank you, Amon," said Doujima. "Let's…oh wait, I really need some shampoo. I'm out." She began to walk off.

"No, wait," he said, not wanting to be left alone among the medicines.

"Come on,"

"I'm coming."

"Good," Robin said.

"No, not you Robin. Wait, you want me to come?" He tried to keep up with Doujima, who was scanning the shampoos with the light-speed of much experience.

"Yes. See, the problem is mumble mutter…" Touko's noise escalated and Amon couldn't hear her.

"What?"

"I said its not here," Doujima said exasperatedly.

"No, not you."

"It's Touko!" Robin was yelling into her communicator.

"That's Touko?"

"I can't hear you, Amon!"

"Come on, Amon, let's go."

"Wait," Amon said to Doujima. "Robin?"

"You just told me to wait!"

"No, I told Doujima to wait!"

"Doujima's with you?"

"Yes. Doujima, wait!"

Then it happened. Amon went smack into a display stand of small boxes of hair dye. Before he knew it he was on the ground, surrounded by small boxes in every direction, even on top of him. His communicator was lost in the rubble, but somewhere off to his right he could hear Robin yelling. Doujima was gone already.

Amon sat up, flinging boxes every which way. He looked frantically around, but no one was there yet. He tossed boxes of hair color left and right, looking for his communicator. It appeared to be under the blonde shades. Honey blond, strawberry blonde, platinum blonde, dishwater blonde…_dishwater blonde?_ Amon raised an eyebrow.

There it was. He spoke into it.

"Robin? Are you there?"

She was gone.

He walked out to his car, where Doujima sat waiting.

"Amon! What took you so long?"

He merely replied with a Sullen Glare That Turns Into Zucchini All Blonde Who Dare Make Queries About Things Connected In Any Way To Incidents Involving Hair Dye, However Unaware Of Such Incidents They May Be.

They pulled out of the parking lot and turned towards Touko's apartment.

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I leave you in suspense. For a week. At least. Because I will be on vacation for the next week and shall not be able to update again for at least that long. So do not bombard me with urgings to hurry up. Not that there are very many of you to bombard me…(hint hint to all those who have not read this yet)

I'LL MISS YOU!!!! How shall I live a whole week without my reviewers?! Well, I might be able to check for reviews Thursday, but…sniff sob

Ais, I hope you got a good laugh out of the extremely inside joke even though I told you about it beforehand.

Wow, this whole thing including A/N is almost six pages. Longer than normal. But I hope you don't mind.

May your fifth cousin thrice removed never get measles,

Hyde


	4. things happen

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Disclaimer: I own nothing nothing and nothing in here.

Hyde A/N: Must…write…long…chapter…to…make…up…for…long…wait…

Sorry its been so long but I been on vacation for a week. Said vacation was not entirely wasted because I wrote upcoming Zaizen flashback. Hmm, should I put Zaizen's stuff at the beginning or the middle or the end or what? I shall have to decide. Um, I think I shall put it in the middle. Then you all can get an intermission from the regular characters. Anyway, on with the show. (is suddenly reminded of Looney Tunes theme song and thus proceeds to get said song stuck in head)

Amon could have located Touko's apartment with his eyes closed. Not because he'd been there so often, but because of the loud wails emanating from it.

Doujima winced. "What _is _that?"

Amon did not reply. _She'll find out soon enough._

They walked up to the door. Doujima was surprised to find out that the horrible sound was coming from Touko and Robin's apartment. "Amon?" She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Are you sure…?"

Amon paid no attention to her. He knocked on the door. It was opened by Robin. Seeing that it was he, Robin stepped aside and made a hopeless sweeping gesture toward Touko, who was lying on the couch.

Amon blinked four times and snorted softly in surprise. He stood there, unmoving, at the sight of Touko. Robin raised her eyebrows quizzically at Doujima, who whispered, "He's startled beyond comprehension."

"Really? He doesn't look it."

"Trust me. If Amon blinks more than three times, something is horribly wrong. If he snorts, the world is coming to an end."

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(Hyde A/N: I suddenly realized how stupid that sounds. 'If he snorts, the world is coming to an end.' Out of context, that sounds…just weird.)

Now, we describe the scene that led Amon to blink four times and snort. Touko was rolling about on the couch like a tortured soul. Her hair was streaked with something red; seeing a mostly-empty glass of red liquid on the floor next to her, Amon correctly assumed that she had dumped it over her head. (In the background: Doujima: What's that red stuff? Robin: Kool-Aid.) In Touko's left hand was the remains of Stewart's coffee pot, which she had kept with her as a memorial. She was alternately clutching it to her stomach and pounding it on a nearby pillow. All the while she was letting out ear-piercing wails alternating with shrieks of "Stewart!"

"Amon," Robin said, when he seemed to have partially come to himself, "You have to help. I don't know what to do with her."

"Psychiatrist. Now." Amon scooped Touko up, despite her wriggling, and toted her out to his car with the girls in pursuit.

"Touko. Listen to me. Why are you crying?"

"Stewart!" Touko sobbed.

"Who is Stewart?"

"Mine beloved darling…oh, Stewart, thou darling!"

"Where is Stewart, Touko?"

"Gone…gone! No…no, no…"

"Is he coming back?"

"No! Never! Gone forever…thou mine darling, come thee back…to me…Stewart…"

"Tell me about Stewart, Touko."

"Stewart! Darling, beloved…SHE did it. Now thou art gone, mine precious. Gone. Gone! Stewart! Stew-w-w-w…" Touko broke down into sobs.

"And how does that make you feel?"

"No…gone…sniff…Stewie…dearest…"

"How do you feel about Stewart?"

"Stewart…belike…but, no, never canst there be a replacement for him."

"Tell me something else about yourself."

"Stewart…sniff…darling, dearest, beloved…mine…gone…no…"

Amon was pacing outside the door of the office. Five steps back, five steps forth. Five back, five forth.

__

Aww, Doujima thought, _he's worried about her. That's so sweet!_

__

Is he worried, or restless? Robin thought to herself, a small frown crossing her pale face. _I hope he's restless. No, no, don't think like that. It's dangerous to think like that. He loves her. I think._

__

Why doesn't he just give her a strong sedative and send her home? Amon wondered as he paced impatiently back and forth. _He's been in there trying to understand her for an hour._

Just then, the psychiatrist emerged.

"Mr. Amon? I've been talking with Touko for a while now and I've come to the conclusion that she's suffering from post-traumatic stress and denial. Something involving a 'Stewart?'"

"Yes. He…er, was killed."

"I take it this was someone she was very attached to."

"Deeply," Doujima piped up from her chair.

"I've prescribed this strong sedative. Give her one of these pills as soon as you can and another before bed. After that, just give her one whenever she gets worked up."

Amon rolled his eyes as he accepted the prescription. _I could have done that and I'm not a psychiatrist at all._

"_These raindrops keep fallin' on m' head, they keep falli-i-i-i-ng! Because I'm FREEEEEEE! Nuthin's wo-o-rrying meeeeeeeeeeee!_" Touko warbled as Amon pulled up to the apartment.

"Something's worrying _me_," Doujima commented. "Where did she learn that?"

No one answered.

"Well, wherever," Doujima continued unfazed, "as long as she shuts up pretty soon."

"Stewart loved that one," Touko said thickly to whoever happened to be listening.

When they got her in the apartment, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Well, at least she's in here, and the general populace is safe," Doujima commented.

"I thought that was a sedative," said Amon quietly, and gave the pill bottle a Sullen Glare That Causes All Medicines Masquerading As Sedatives To Suddenly Fulfill Their Sedatively Purpose.

"_Mem'rie-e-e-es! Light the corners of my mi-i-i-nd! Misty watercolor mem'ries! Of the way we were-e-e-e-e-e-e-e!_" Touko sang, and began dancing around the room. In her strange state of mind, she began stumbling over things, causing large thumps to reverberate throughout the building. Not to mention she started crying and whispering "Stewart!" again. "_Of the way we were!_" she sobbed again. "Oh Stewie, the way we were!"

Touko stomped around the room, wailing and moaning in a state of apparent drunkenness. Amon tried to calm her but she flailed her arms at him and yelled, "No, get thee gone from me! Stewie…Stewie…"

Then, the doorbell rang. Robin went to answer it.

"What is going on in there?" an irate woman asked. "Don't you know people are trying to have some peace and quiet?"

"I'm sorry," said Robin, "We're doing the best we can."

"Well, you're going to have to do better, or I'm going to lodge a formal complaint. Sweet Jesus, these young people…" She turned and walked away, and Robin quietly closed the door.

In the next five minutes there were five more complaints at the door and one telephone call. Robin was looking exhausted and even with her new allergy medicine she was starting to sneeze every now and then. Luckily, the only damage was a slight singeing of the drier, which Doujima covered up with white shoe polish.

The doorbell rang again.

"Amon, will you get that please?" Robin asked, looking so exhausted, small, and helpless that he had no choice but to comply.

He opened the door and there stood…

****

(Hyde A/N: Cliffhanger. Now we take a small intermission and we get to hear about Zaizen. Aren't we so happy?

Readers: mumble noncommittally)

Zaizen sat in his office and scowled at his phone, which was ringing insistently, as usual. _Does this phone ever stop ringing? It's always ringing. When the phone rings, I'm going to hear something I don't like. Usually. Unless Touko calls._

He eagerly picked up the phone, hoping to hear his daughter's voice. Darn, a solicitor. _I hate solicitors. If only it had been Touko…_ Zaizen could still remember the last phone call he'd had from her. It was before the memorial…

Begin Zaizen's Flashback

Zaizen sat in his office and scowled at the phone that was ringing again. _I'm a busy man,_ he thought. _Why must everyone bother me?_

"What?" he said loudly and in a very irritated manner into the receiver.

"Daddy, couldst thou possibly send a breadmachine to be as a companion to mine Stewart?"

"Belike…I mean, maybe, Touko."

"Please, Daddy? Poor Stewart looketh so lonely. Besides, I must have a breadmachine. All those with money, power, and class hath breadmachines!"

Power…the word echoed in Zaizen's mind, even as his mouth automatically responded.

"Yes Touko, I'll get to it when I can. I'm very busy."

"Indeed, I knowest that, Daddy."

"I shalt…I mean, will, see thee…I mean, you, later." He paused, flustered. "Touko, I don't know what this stuff is that you say, but it's as catching as plague!"

"'Tis Elizabethan English, Daddy. See thee." She hung up. Zaizen muttered, and turned to his computer.

End Zaizen's Flashback

Zaizen muttered, and turned to his computer.

****

(Hyde A/N: Now we get to go back to the regular characters.

Readers: sigh of relief)

He opened the door and there stood Abigail.

"Abigail, what are you doing here?" he asked in a deep, low voice so no one could hear him.

"Don't worry, I won't come in and embarrass you or anything," she said. _Oh yeah, the mind-reading thing, _Amon thought.

"Yes, the mind-reading thing. I come with a message from the Omnipotent Mother Goddess."

"Again?" He gave her a Sullen Glare That Banishes To The Ends Of The Earth All Persistently Appearing Prophets Of Remote Goddesses. "Why does this Mother Goddess always have a message for _me_?"

"Do not question the ways of the Goddess. Her ways are unfathomable."

"_Your_ ways are unfathomable. How did you find me?"

"It is fitting for my ways to be unfathomable. After all, I am named after the Goddess. This was the name her mother gave her."

"The Goddess had a mother?"

"And three sisters. One of them was in fashion design. That's why fashion designers are always so rich. The Goddess blesses them in memory of her sister. And one is now the Goddess of Oatmeal."

"Goddess of Oatmeal? Just give me the prophecy before Robin comes over here."

"Greater love hath no woman than for her breadmachine." And with that, Abigail turned and was gone.

****

(Hyde A/N: Ais? Come out of that trance. I don't care _who_ you were dreaming about, this is funny. Daphne is the Goddess of Oatmeal!

Hyde and Ais: WHAhahahahahahaha!

Other Readers: look in a sideways manner at Ais and Hyde

Sideways! WHAhahahahahahaha! Okay, enough laughing at inside jokes that no one else understands. Back to your regular programming.)

"Goddess of Oatmeal?" Amon muttered, and raised an eyebrow.

"That one must have been persistent," Doujima said. "You were talking to her for five minutes."

"Yeah," Amon muttered in a preoccupied manner.

Touko, who was screaming "Oh WHERE…is my hairbrush? Oh WHERE…is my hairbrush?" suddenly collapsed in the middle of the floor in a state of deep sleep. Amon toted her into her bedroom and laid her down. He and Doujima then left Robin to get some much-needed sleep.

****

Hyde A/N: Well, you shall have to wait until next time to find out about the prophecy because this is really long already. I'm sorry it's been so long but now you shall have your chapters at reasonably regular intervals. Guess what, Ais? I'm coming over a week from Thursday, remember? Cuz my parental units will be absent? Maybe we can finish up the Taco Salad one then if you don't get it done before then.

I hope you liked. Review please!

May bananas never take over your hairdryer,

Hyde


	5. brief interlude setting stage for next c...

****

Disclaimer: I own nothing in here. If you try to sue me, I will point to this and you will get no money. Nothing.

Hyde A/N: Well, here's yet another chapter. I'm not sure quite where this is going now. I have had no large revelations. This might be, as Ais would say, a brief interlude.

Do you all like responses to reviews? If you do, I can do that. I don't want to copy Ais or anything, but…just give me your opinion please. I write to please the fans, although my secondary goal is to amuse myself.

Greater love hath no woman than for her breadmachine. Greater love hath no woman than for her breadmachine.

Abigail's words echoed through Amon's head as he drove to work the next morning. He wondered if it were a dire prediction or a warning or a word of advice. It could be any of the three. So how did he use it?

After causing himself to have a headache pondering it, he turned his thoughts to Touko. _I wonder if Robin will come to work this morning. It will depend on how Touko's doing and how that allergy medicine is working. I don't think sedation is going to cure Touko. She's too…in love with that…er, Stewart. I've got to…distract her somehow. Get her mind off Stewart. Something she loves more than even Stewart. Her dryer? No…_

Suddenly, Amon realized he'd missed his turn.

"And then she started screaming, "Oh WHERE…is my hairbrush?" and then she collapsed. We put her to bed." Doujima was saying to her co-workers, namely Karasuma, Michael, and Sakaki. Karasuma giggled, Sakaki laughed, and Michael only half listened.

"Oh my," said Karasuma, "So what did he do?"

"Nothing. What can you do?"

Karasuma shrugged. "I don't know."

"Boy, Doujima," Sakaki said, "I'm glad you were there. We'd have never wrestled this story out of Amon."

"Speak of the devil," Karasuma said as Amon opened the door.

"You're late, Amon," Doujima called.

"Been by to see Touko?" Karasuma asked slyly.

"I heard she's not been so well lately," Sakaki added.

Amon scowled and gave them all a Collective Sullen Glare That Brings Down Horrible Punishment On Those Who Tease Dark Sullen Individuals.

"Is Robin here?" he asked.

"No. She must not have gotten over her allergies," Doujima responded.

"Then Doujima, you come along with me instead."

"But Amon…my hair! I haven't been to my hair appointment yet!"

"You're not supposed to have hair appointments during work hours. Come on." He walked out, and Doujima had no choice but to follow him, protesting loudly.

"Come on, Amon, please? I don't want to hunt. I…..wait up! Amon!" Her voice faded.

A moment later, the trademark Doujima heels were heard clicking down the hall toward them. When she opened the door they all looked up.

"Somebody give me an orbo gun," she said.

"You didn't bring an orbo gun? For a hunt?" was Karasuma's comment.

Doujima gave her a dirty look and grabbed Sakaki's off the table.

"Hey, wait, that's mine! Give that back!" Sakaki dropped his cheetos and ran after her, but just missed the elevator.

"Doujima," Amon said as they drove down the highway, "I'm going to do this hunt myself."

"Well, what am I going to do?"

"You are going to look up a person named Abigail somewhere in this city. You are going to threaten her with that orbo gun. Tell her something about not interfering or something. Use any threatening phrases you deem necessary. Tell her you come from the Goddess of Oatmeal."

"Amon? Are you feeling okay?"

"Doujima. This is an important mission."

"Well, at least tell me what this girl looks like."

"She has long black hair. A little shorter than me. Thin."

"Abigail. Long black hair. Got it."

"If you can't find her, try mentioning the Omnipotent Mother Goddess. Oh, and you can ask around for an Abigail with dark hair who buys blackberries and mashed potatoes."

"Amon…I think you should let the hunt go today and get some rest."

"Doujima, there is nothing wrong with me!" He gave her a Sullen Glare Aimed At All Those Who Think Dark, Ominous Individuals Are Looney. "Just get it done. Promise me you will do it."

"Okay, I will," she said, starting to feel stupid already. "Can't you at least explain this to me?"

"No. I'll let you off here. Good luck."

"Bye." Doujima watched the macho black car disappear. Tugging a pair of pink spike-heeled shoes, she got out her communicator.

"Michael," she said, "It's Doujima. I need you to do something for me."

****

Review please! Please. Pretty please with salami on top.

Well, it is a relatively brief interlude. But the next one shall be longer, promise.

May your cousin never let spongemonkeys loose in your house,

Hyde


	6. In which various plots progress

Disclaimer: I own nothing contained in this chapter. Otherwise, I would be a lot richer than I am now and I would probably not be writing this.

Hyde A/N: Sorry it's been so long. I think the Fount of Inspiration forgot to pay the water bill. But I will try to get this chapter done pretty soon so you all don't forget me.

"You want me to WHAT?" Michael asked Doujima in disbelief.

"I know it sounds…strange and maybe a little unnecessary, but…"

"Where the heck am I going to find that?"

"I don't know. You're the computer expert."

"I don't even know where to start looking for Amon's medical history. Heck, all I know about the guy is his name and address."

"Just do it please. Oh, and while you're at it, I need you to find someone for me. Her name is Abigail. She lives somewhere in Japan and has dark hair."

"Are you kidding? Where am I going to start? Is she a Seed? Is she Japanese or an immigrant?"

"Sounds like she's an immigrant. What Japanese person would have the name Abigail? She might be a Seed. Check Seeds first, but she might not necessarily be one."

Michael scowled. "Why do you people just call me up and expect miracles?"

Doujima ignored the question. "Thanks, Michael. Bye." She hung up on him and walked down the street. Then, to kill time until Michael called back, she headed out to do some research of her own. _Where to find a place that sells blackberries and/or mashed potatoes?_

Amon sat in his car and brooded darkly. He didn't entirely trust Doujima to complete her mission. And there was the Touko problem too. What to do about Touko.

Greater love hath no woman than for her breadmachine. Greater love hath no woman than for her breadmachine.

Then, Amon saw that by some weird coincidence a flyer with the following inscription was posted on a nearby telephone pole:

Are you having trouble with your relationship?

Call the Relationship Helpline to find out the things you always wanted to know about dealing with that girlfriend or boyfriend.

Toll free 1-800-555-HELP

Amon looked at it, read it three times, and experienced a moment of deliberation. Well, as long as it was anonymous…

"Excuse me, sir, I understand you are a entrepreneur of mashed potatoes?"

"Among other things, yes."

"Do you happen to notice a thin, dark-haired young woman buying from you often?"

"I…" the man began, but was interrupted by Doujima's communicator.

"Pardon," she said, turned her back, walked away a few steps, and said, "Doujima here," into her communicator.

"Its Michael. I have the results of your searches."

"Okay, lets have it."

"Which first?"

Doujima thought for only a moment before replying, "Amon."

"No medical records of any kind."

"NOTHING! That's impossible! No birth certificate?" (The entrepreneur she had been conversing with glared at her and a startled customer jumped two feet in the air.)

"Not on record anywhere."

"That's crazy. Anyway, how about that stuff on Abigail?"

"I think I've found her. She entered Japan about five years ago under the name of Abigail DeNoel. Her picture fits your description."

"Other information?"

"The usual. Her address, which is apparently an apartment, phone number, age, birthdate, race…oh, here's something interesting. I take that back, here's something strange."

"What?"

"You won't believe this."

"Just tell me, Michael."

"Her religious affiliation is listed as…Oatmealism."

"Okay, that's got to be her. Thanks, Michael. Oh, could you give me that address?"

"Hello, Relationship Helpline, Betty here. What's your problem."

"It's not a problem, it's a question."

"Okay, what's your question." Betty spoke with little enthusiasm. Even the densest person could easily perceive that she had been working this same job for ten years and had given advice to twelve thousand three hundred and eighty-six lost souls. One could as easily perceive that she would have given anything for a mocha latte or a job washing windows.

"My girlfriend's coffee pot, um…died the other day and she's really upset about it. I want to know what you think I should give her or do for her to help her."

"I can't say as I've ever been in mourning over a coffee pot. Let me connect you to someone with more experience in the tragedy area." Betty put Amon on hold and transferred him to a lady the next phone.

"Hello, Linda, crisis specialty department. State your situation."

"Recently, an object that was very dear to my girlfriend was destroyed and she's very upset. How can I help her get over it?"

"Well, I'll tell ya," Linda said, "One thing you don't want to do is get her a replacement. She won't appreciate that. When my ex-husband dropped my favorite bobby pin down the gutter, he bought me hundreds of bobby pins, but it wasn't any good, because none of them were just like my favorite one. And ya don't want to try to convince her to move on either; a woman can be very attached to things in a way that a man like yourself can never understand. Like when Joey broke that ink pen of mine. I _loved _that ink pen. But Joey didn't understand. He thought it was just an ink pen."

"So what do I do?"

"In my experience, the thing that helps the most is if they just gently and gradually encourage you to move on by helping you forget it and get it off your mind. Don't give her an exact replacement, but give her something else she can dote on, or…"

"Like a breadmachine…"Amon interrupted. "Thank you." He hung up. It was all clear to him now. For once, Abigail's words were not a dire prediction that he must struggle fruitlessly to avoid. They were words of advice.

"Are you Abigail?"

"Yes," the slim, dark-haired girl said serenely.

"Come with me." Doujima did her best to look ominous. Being around Amon so much caused her to be capable of a reasonable facsimile.

"You had better stop this meddling. You better stay out." Doujima glared, and got threateningly in Abigail's face.

"What? Who are you?"

"I'm from the Goddess of Oatmeal," Doujima remembered to say. "My name is none of your business."

"But I don't…"

"You heard me. Stay out, and stop interfering with business that belongs to the Goddess of Oatmeal. You have been warned."

"Is this because I left the Devoted of the Goddess of Oatmeal for the Devoted of Her sister, the Omnipotent Mother Goddess?"

"Don't play innocent, my friend, you know what this is about. Think about what I said." With that, Doujima stepped into her car and drove off. _I really need to talk to Amon._

Well, it's not really that long but I want to get it posted today. Oh yeah, I was going to respond to the few reviews that I actually got last time (Ahem…hint hint).

Jessica Rabbit21: Kareoke? I don't think so. I write my stuff more on the story line and try to make the characters do things you can actually imagine them doing. No offense, but I cannot visualize any kareoke. Thanx for the suggestion anyway.

St Earns: No, Amon was never planning to send Robin because a.) she's sick and b.) he did not think Robin would actually threaten anyone if she didn't mean it. She's too mild. Doujima, however, is capable. I am glad you did not feel deprived by the comparative shortness of the brief interlude. And thank you for actually reviewing all the time. _Some_ people looks pointedly at everyone else do not.

There you go, chapter six, however belatedly.

May your house never be filled ceiling to floor with bright green tissue paper,

Hyde


	7. in which Zaizen reappears

****

Disclaimer: I, being Hyde, do not own anything contained in this chapter. Any and all material contained in this chapter is under the category 'Humor' and is not to be taken seriously. So do not take my work or characters to be racially discriminate or anything like that, which has happened before, for some reason known only to those who had objections to Taco Joe (For references, see Amon Has a Cold. I can't imagine you would want references, but in order to be orderly and thorough about this I shall give you. Here. Eat and be happy.)

Hyde A/N: I am starting this chapter the day after I posted the last one.

Impatient People: --Cheer—

So maybe it will not be a week between chapters as it has before.

Impatient People: Yay!

Oh, and now that they are posted I must tout the two fanfics authored by HydeandAis and actually written by Hyde and Ais. Some of you have probably read them already, but they are Amon and the Exploding Taco Salad and The Nonsense of the Cowpit. Now HydeandAis does not mean just Hyde.

People Who Think That is Wonderful: Yay!

Okay, so anyway, read and review please.

Alright, since this A/N is getting long, perhaps we should get on with the stuff you all love: the plot!

People Who Love The Plot: Yay!

Amon walked into The Appliance Store with a few misgivings. The Appliance store did not look like a place that normal ominous individuals frequented. There were bright, cheerful signs everywhere, promoting bright, shiny appliances. Everywhere he looked he saw bright, gleaming appliances.

He went to the desk with a large blue sign above it that said COSTOMER SERVICE and had a picture of a smiling employee to the left of the words.

He walked up to the desk (or perhaps one might call it a counter) but no one was there. There was, however, a small sign propped up in the center that said, 'How may I help you? Please ring bell for service.'

Amon glanced surreptitiously around for the bell, but there seemed to be no bell in sight. A few uncomfortable minutes later he realized that the bell was what was propping up the small sign.

"Muttermutterstupidmutter," Amon articulated. He rang the bell. Reluctantly. It just does not improve one's macho image to be ringing a bell in an appliance store.

Out of no where, a saleslady appeared. "How may I help you?"

"I need a breadmachine," Amon muttered.

"Let me show you where they are," she said, and walked off. Amon followed, trying to be inconspicuous.

Sixteen bells and alarms of various degrees of tone and timbre rang violently in Zaizen's head. **(Hyde A/N: Bum bum bummmmmm! Zaizen returns! I was really only bringing him in that once time because I happened to have a random inspiration for him but now he has worked himself back in again.)**

Why were they ringing? No, not a fire alarm. You see, Zaizen too was in The Appliance Store that morning. He was not there because of the inspiration of Linda the Crisis Expert, as was Amon, but he was there because he wanted a toaster that he could run on orbo, and this was where he got all of Touko's appliances.

Back to the bells and alarms. They were ringing because he happened to espy Amon there at the same time, following Judy (Yes, he was acquainted with the CUSTOMER SERVICE lady) back into the depths of the store. He was mortally afraid that Amon would see him in such an undignified place. No good for employees to see their boss in undignified positions, no sir.

Zaizen crouched behind a display of electric eggbeaters, watching Amon until he disappeared into the great gleaming aisles of appliances.

"Well, sir, here they are. We have three basic types of breadmachines: Japanese, American, and Luxembourgian."

"Um, Japanese."

"Okay, within the category 'Japanese' we have these basic models: A, B, C, D, E, X, J, and Lo."

"They all look the same."

"Well, there are a few seemingly minor differences that are actually quite crucial." From here 'Judy' launched into a technical description of each model individually, which Amon did not follow in the least. He was not familiar with the technical terms of the appliance world.

Suddenly, a sound was heard throughout the store. It sounded like a cross between a pig squealing and a lady shrieking. There was a muffled thump.

Amon went into panic mode. Well, you might not call it panic mode if _you_ went into it, but for Amon, it was panic mode. He handed Judy some random amount of money close to the price tag, grabbed a model (I believe X was the one he grabbed), and ran from the store.

Now to explain the strange noises Amon heard. The shrieky sort of noise was an old lady with an umbrella who had decided that Zaizen was a stalker since he was hiding behind electric eggbeaters. She thus let out a sort of shrieky noise of triumph and whacked Zaizen soundly over the head with her umbrella (the beige one she kept for just such an occasion). The muffled thump, as you have no doubt surmised, was Zaizen being whacked by said beige umbrella.

Zaizen lay on the floor for a moment, groaning.

"I got you, you stalker," screeched the old lady, brandishing her beige umbrella threateningly.

"Umph, no…mistake…" Zaizen muttered.

"Stay on the floor! No false moves, or you get it, mister!"

The truth is, Zaizen couldn't have gotten up anyway. "No, mistake, lemme go…"

"Somebody call the police! Somebody call the secret service! Somebody call the CIA! Somebody call the FBI! I've captured a stalker!" the old lady yelled. Judy came over to see what all the ruckus was.

"What's all the ruckus?" she asked.

"This man's a stalker! Don't worry, I walloped him good."

"I see. Was he stalking you, ma'am?"

"No, I don't know who he was stalking, but he sure was stalking. The way he was sneaking around behind those eggbeaters…" The old lady trailed off and shook her umbrella threateningly in her anger against those who would dare to commit a crime. She herself would never have thought of committing a crime, thus she thought it all the worse when someone else did.

"Alright ma'am, calm down. I'll call the police and we'll straighten things out."

"No…not police…" Zaizen groaned from his position on the floor.

"Shut up, you menace to society, you!" the old lady threatened.

Suddenly, through his pain there came to Zaizen a wonderful idea. Through his pain he smiled in a way that might almost be called evil.

"Over there…" he groaned to the old lady, "Someone's stealing a toaster…"

"Where?" she snapped, and headed in the direction Zaizen had indicated.

The moment her back was turned Zaizen got up and ran.

"Amon?" Doujima said into her communicator, "I completed the mission."

"Good."

"Uh, Amon, could you tell me why I'm doing this?"

"No."

"Not even a hint?"

"No."

"Vague reference?"

"No."

"Come on, Amon. I won't do it if you don't tell me."

"Yes, you will."

"Why?"

"Because if you don't I'll send all the STN-J members an anonymous email exposing a few things you don't want exposed."

"Amon! I can't believe you would resort to blackmail to get me to do something. Amon, you aren't drunk, are you?"

"No."

"You aren't taking any medication?"

"No."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

Amon, tired of continuing the argument, which was getting nowhere, hung up.

****

Well, it isn't a particularly long chapter but it has been long enough and I really should get this posted so I shall continue in the next chapter.

HunterRobin: Thank you! I shall try to update as soon as possible. This chapter would have been in earlier but I was really busy this week. I shall try to get the next one in earlier, I promise.

Smeagol: We promisesssss too, doesssn't we preciousssssssss!

Smeagol! You are not going to write anything, I told you already! You put in too many s's, and besides, the stuff you write makes no sense.

Smeagol: It makesss sssense to usssssss!

But not to anyone else!

Smeagol: Sssso?

****

Aisling Niamh: Well, I'd like an Aisate (short for Ais update). Thanks for the tip. BTW, they are called asterisks, not stars.

May patchouli never soak up your carpet and fly it to Mars,

Hyde

****

St Earns: One question: Why did she save every ink pen she used in law school? What's the point?

Everyone, did you hear that? I'm unique! –does sixteen cartwheels, then collapses—

****

CrazyTomboy: The voices in my head tell you thank you! They are glad to have an adoring fan. lol

****

Ein: I pity him too. The poor guy has no end of tortures devised for him. But if we didn't torture him, there would be no story!

****

Miuixtli: I do not believe I have ever seen that show. You should ask Ais. She's the one who started all the Touko naming stuff with Chad the dryer. Or was he a washing machine? That's stupid, I should remember that. I think he's a dryer.


	8. In which a new Abigail comes about

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, and nothing in here. Not to mention nothing in here. Zip, zero, zilch.

Hyde A/N: Here we go. Yet another chapter. Which hopefully I shall finish soon. I really should have gotten started before now but I didn't. But I shall finish ASAP. Because there are impatient people out there who do not like to wait two weeks between chapters.

Grungle. I wish summer lasted longer. You know that schools start up in a little over a month? Where did it all go?! –runs in circles looking for it—

Smeagol: Checkssss betweenss your toesssssssss.

Hyde: Between my toes?

Smeagol: That'ssss where Ssmeagol findsss thingssss he loosesssss.

Hyde: Between your toes?

Smeagol: Yessssssss.

Hyde: When was the last time you bathed?

Smeagol: We can'tsss remembersss.

Hyde: Good, I don't want to know.

Amon knocked on Touko's door not without apprehension. If this ploy failed, he suspected he would be in very deep trouble.

"What?" she said irritably, yanking the door open.

"Um, can I come in?"

"Whatever thou wisheth." She opened the door wide and proceeded him into the kitchen.

"Um…Touko, I have something for you."

"If it be a coffeemaker, I shall accept it not. For within my heart there is a hole, which only mine Stewart can fill."

"It's not a coffeemaker."

"Good." Then, Touko seemed to forget her gift and she wandered into the sittingroom, mumbling '…the gods must be crazy…bananas in my hairdryer…' over and over again. Amon followed her.

"Um, Touko, I have something for you."

"No, I…I wish it not. Please, begone, and bring thyself not back into this dwelling for yet a time. I wish to be alone with mine memories…of Stewart…mine wondrous…darling."

"But…I want you to have this."

"No…" Touko seemed disoriented. "I couldn't…not…Stewart…"

"Please." Amon was getting tired of repeating himself. He wondered if Touko was still on sedatives. "Where's Robin?"

"Um…Methinks at work."

"Did she give you any medicine this morning?"

"Nay…Only last night."

"You're better then."

Touko stared at him as though she was quite confused.

"Never mind. Just…take it." Amon shoved the box he was holding into her arms.

"What is it? Not a coffeemaker?"

"No. You'll find out."

Touko set the box on the couch and tried to peel up the packing tape holding it shut.

She looked up at him imploringly. "I cannot open it."

"Um…where are your scissors?"

"In the bathroom."

"Why are they in the bathroom?"

"I was using them…to get the bananas out of Roy."

"Roy?"

"Mine curling iron."

Amon raised one eyebrow and went to fetch the scissors. _I thought the bananas were in her hairdryer._

The sight that met Amon when he entered the bathroom was one that made him stop in his tracks, raise both eyebrows, and blink. There were bananas smashed against everything everywhere. All of Touko's bathroom appliances were scattered all over the floor. Most of them looked like they had been in a war in which the other side was using bananas instead of cannonballs. The curling iron (excuse me, Roy) was on the counter, looking scratched up. And still covered in bananas. But where were the scissors?

He scanned the bathroom, loath to step in and risk befouling his bad black clothes with banana goop. Unable to locate the scissors by sight, he looked for something with which to probe the unsightly mess. A broom. Perfect.

He poked and prodded among the piles of banana goop in various places on the floor and counter. Finally, he felt something hard in a large pile next to the…uh, Roy. He knocked it onto the floor. Sure enough, it was the scissors. He slid them towards himself, and finally captured them. Holding them with two fingers at arms-length, he hurried into the kitchen to wash them off.

When he turned to the sittingroom to hand Touko the scissors, she was gone. He found her out on the balcony, using the box as a chair.

"Bananas…" she muttered.

"Touko. I found the scissors."

"Good." She sat there, staring out across the cement sea that surrounded her.

"Um…you can open the box now."

"Mmm…" she said, betraying the fact that she wasn't paying the least attention.

"Touko. Look at me."

"Hmm?" She turned to face him.

"Here are the scissors. You can open the box now."

"Oh. It is not a…re…replacement…for…Stewart?"

"No." If he were more articulate, Amon might have further explained that it was a mere offering of condolences. But he is not articulate, as we all know, so he left that part unsaid.

Touko accepted the scissors and cut open the box. She lifted out an object covered in layers of bubble wrap.

"Ooh, bubble wrap," she said, and began pulling it off. But the bubble wrap was forgotten when she saw what the bubble wrap had been concealing.

"A breadmachine! Oh, Amon, darling, a breadmachine! I hath always wanted a breadmachine! Oh, how didst thou know?"

Amon opened his mouth to make some sort of excuse, but Touko interrupted him and all that came out was "ah…"

"Oh, never mind, darling, 'tis wondrous! Oh, what shall her name be?"

"Abigail?" Amon couldn't help it. It popped right out without his macho consent.

"Oh, 'tis a beautiful name. A wondrous, beautiful name. Thanks be unto thee, Amon darling. Abigail…Oh Abigail, no greater love hath any woman for her breadmachine than I for thee. Forever shalt thou be treasured close to mine heart, though I should come to hate even Roy." And after that emotional, touching, and moving speech (of which Amon understood not a word) she danced Abigail over to her counter and set the beloved breadmachine in a place of honor, right next to the treasured remains of Stewart's coffeepot.

"Stewart, ah, Stewart, never shall I forget thee…" Her gaze was far away, lost in reminiscence. Then, she turned back toward Amon, a peaceful smile on her face and tears in her eyes. Amon was solemn and unreadable. If the emotional events he just witnessed touched him, we couldn't tell.

"Amon, darling, thou hast made me happy. Go thee now to thy job, knowing that Abigail and I art well, happy, and contented." She smiled hugely, and followed him to the door.

"Goodbye, Touko."

"Fare thee well, mine Amon." She gave him a parting, kindly smile and closed the door. Amon stood there, staring at it. Half of him was relieved; she seemed to be cured from her post-traumatic stress or whatever. But yet, though he would never admit it, he felt almost jealous of the new Abigail. Abigail. That reminded him. He still had to get rid of Abigail.

He picked up his communicator.

................................................

"Doujima. I have another assignment for you."

"What now?"

"I want you to go back to Abigail. Disguise yourself so she won't recognize you. Pretend to be a reporter and interview her on her life as a prophet of the Omnipotent Mother Goddess. Find out anything you can and record it. Put the tape in my mailbox."

"One question…Does this mean I can buy a new outfit for my disguise?"

"Do whatever you want."

"Amon, what is your obsession with this girl?"

"I'm not telling you anything, Doujima. If you knew, you would understand. But you aren't going to know."

Doujima sighed. "Okay. Whatever. By the way, did you know that when she entered Japan about five years ago her religious affiliation was listed as Oatmealism?"

"No, but it figures."

"And she said something about having switched from the Devoted of the Goddess of Oatmeal to the Devoted of her Sister."

"Yes…thank you for telling me. That may help. And remember, this mission is top secret. You can't tell anyone about what you do."

"Right, Amon."

He hung up.

So, she had been 'Devoted' to the Goddess of Oatmeal, and then switched to the Omnipotent Mother Goddess. He might be able to use that information. Maybe get someone to portray themselves as a 'Devoted' to Oatmeal who is jealous because of Abigail's desertion to the Mother Goddess…

Whump thump smack.

Amon tripped over a fire hydrant, so deep was he in contemplation. Oh no. The Bad Black Coat had a small tear.

This looked like a job for…Robin.

...................................................

Hyde A/N: **It occurs to me that if it wasn't so funny, this would be drama or something like that. You know, take out 'Stewart' and 'the Goddess of Oatmeal'. But I like it funny. It's more fun that way. And I don't think I could write a serious WHR fic anyway. It's all been done before. There are zillions of serious WHR fics and hardly any funny ones. Besides Amon and Laundry, I've only found one other humor fic so far that I really liked. And I can't remember what its called.**

Smeagol: Isss it called 'Smeagol takesss over the worldsssss'?

Hyde: No. Definitely not.

Smeagol: Ratsssssss. We should writessss one like thatsss. Itsss would be the besssst!

Hyde: Somehow, I doubt it. And you are NOT going to write anything anyway. You use WAY too many s's.

Smeagol: Sssssso?

Hyde: Go away.

Smeagol: Neversssss.

Hyde: If you don't, I'll make you stand in the sun for an hour…

Smeagol: Okay, we leavesssss…--mutters— Nasssssty cruel sun, hurtsss uss…

And now its time for…bum bum BUM!…review responses!

Ein: Probably the only way your day could get better is if candy falls from the sky. :)

Emma: He's not really a stalker, though I imagine he could be. He'd probably use fancy electronic tracking equipment. But Amon would be a better stalker because he would be good and hanging around just behind you with a scary Sullen Stare constantly aimed at your back and his hand always near his orbo gun, ready to jump out at you when he gets you alone in a dark alley and threaten you. –shudders— Creepy but easily imagined.

St Earns: You get an extra special dish of the Glorious and Wonderful Butter Pecan ice cream because you review me every time. You are practically the only one. –applause-- _Some_ people should take notes. Although, I guess Ais usually reviews. I think she tried to review the last chapter but something messed up.

I wonder if the person who saved all the ink pens was just a pack rat. My little sister is. She keeps _everything._ You wouldn't believe all the stuff she has hoarded around. Stuff that just sits around and she never uses. I guess pack rats have this thing where they keep everything 'just in case they need it' or because they 'can't bear to part with it'. She tries to organize it but she still runs out of places to put it all.

I only got three reviews for chapter seven! And I imagine there are more than three people that read this. Well, Ais has an excuse because something messed up when she tried to review. I guess maybe that happened to everyone else too, I don't know. But review anyway, please. You can all have virtual scoops of the Glorious and Immortal Butter Pecan Ice Cream if you review…

May the tree in your front yard never drop melons on your head,

Hyde


	9. in which the bad black coat is repaired

Disclaimer: I own nothing contained within this chapter. No, sadly, I do not own the copyright to the WHR characters, so I am not rich, wealthy, or famous. Nope, I'm just a well-educated Southern Indiana hick.

Hyde A/N: Speaking of hicks, the other day me and a friend were in McDonalds down in Evansville and there were these people next to us who were getting a rebel and a hick mixed up. Funny stuff. Yeah. It was funnier if you were actually there. I can't believe there are actually people in Southern Indiana who don't know the difference between a rebel and a hick. And these people were like, juniors or seniors in high school. I could understand if they were like fifty, but jeez. Anyway, to get back on the subject…

What was the subject? I don't think there was one. Okay then, on with the story.

Audience: --snore, snork, awaken-- Huh? What? Oh…YAY!

…………………………………

A piercing scream tore through the STN-J building the next morning.

"Doujima! Your hair is red!"

"Take a deep breath, Miho. It's only temporary."

"And just why is your hair temporarily red?"

"Undercover assignment."

"What undercover assignment? I never heard anything."

"Neither did I," Sakaki interjected. "Did you Michael?"

"Huh?" Michael turned down the music blasting in his headphones. "What? Did someone say my name?"

"Did you hear about any undercover assignment?"

"No."

"If you guys would shut up, I'll tell you!" Doujima interrupted. Then, in a lower voice, "Is Amon around?"

"No, he and Robin went out on a hunt."

"Oh, Robin's back?"

"Yeah, she came back yesterday afternoon but left early, so you missed her."

"Well, good. Now we won't be so busy. Anyway…"

"Wait," Sakaki interrupted. Doujima glared at him. Nevertheless, he continued. "Why don't you want Amon around?"

"BECAUSE he's the one that sent me on this mission. I have orders not to tell anyone about it."

"Well, you'll tell us anyway, won't you?" Karasuma asked.

"Well…I suppose I shouldn't tell you about this mission. But I will tell you about the other one. He never said anything specifically about that one."

"Another one?"

"Yeah, the other day." The members of the STN-J all leaned forward in their chairs. This promised to be a good story.

"Wait," said Michael, just as Doujima opened her mouth to continue, "Was that the one where you wanted me to look up that girl?"

"Yes, Michael. Now, will you let me tell the story? Okay, it all started that day when Amon took me out on that mission instead of Robin…"

"…and you took my orbo gun!" Sakaki interrupted in an insulted tone.

"WOULD YOU GUYS STOP INTERRUPTING AND LET ME TALK?!"

"Yeah." "O-KAY." "Sheesh..."

"AS I WAS SAYING…Amon took me out on that mission instead of Robin. Only, I found out that he didn't want me on that mission at all. He did it himself, and he sent _me_ out on a different mission: to locate some girl named Abigail with black hair. He told me to threaten her and say I was from the Goddess of Oatmeal. Naturally, I thought he was nuts."

"You didn't think he was joking?" (Comment by Karasuma)

"Amon? Joke? Yeah right. Him being crazy was the only explanation. I asked him if he was feeling all right, tried to get him to go home and get some rest, but he wouldn't. Oh, and he told me to look for a place where she would buy blackberries and mashed potatoes." Doujima sat back, anticipating a reaction. "It was just weird." She was not disappointed.

"Oh my, he must be crazy!" That was Karasuma.

"I can't believe it. Ol' Amon's gone off his rocker," Sakaki commented incredulously.

"Crazy…" was Michael's only comment.

"So did she not exist?" Sakaki asked.

"Actually, she did. Michael located her for me. As it turns out, she's apparently an existing weirdo devoted to some unknown goddess."

"So did you go? What happened?" Karasuma prodded.

"I did go. I did what Amon said."

"What? You followed the orders of a madman?"

"Hold on, Sakaki," said Karasuma, always the practical one. "We don't know that he's a madman. He could just have post-traumatic stress, like Touko. Don't jump to conclusions."

"Anyway, I went there and threatened her like Amon said. She said something about having switched from the Devoted of the Goddess of Oatmeal to the Devoted of her Sister."

"Strange," said Michael. "So, did she eat blackberries and mashed potatoes?"

"Not while I was there. But I may get to find out today."

"Oh, do you get to go back there for the next mission?"

"Yeah, I…oops, not supposed to get into that."

"Come on, Doujima, tell us!" Sakaki pleaded.

"Look, Doujima," Karasuma said firmly, "If Amon's gone nuts, we have to figure out what's going on. We have to help him. You can't do it yourself. You have to tell us everything."

"Okay, alright, here it is. I'm going out to her apartment to interview her on, quote, 'her life as a prophet of the Omnipotent Mother Goddess,' unquote. I'm supposed to tape the interview and give it to him."

"Strange."

"Yeah, definitely. Oh, hey guys, I gotta run. I just came by to get a pencil."

"A pencil?" Karasuma looked confused.

"To stick in my hair."

"Oh. You don't have any pencils at your apartment?"

"Nope. Only pens."

"Whatever."

"Hey, Doujima, give me a copy of the tape when you're done, okay?" That was Michael's parting comment.

"Okay. Bye!" Trademark Doujima Heels clicked down the hall.

…………………………………

"Robin," Amon asked as they climbed into the car after the successful completion of the hunt, "I need you to do something for me."

"What?"

"I need you to fix this tear in my coat." He showed her the small tear near the hem.

**(Hyde A/N: --sniff sniff-- It's so…sorrowful.**

--roll cheesy tragic violin music—

Audience: --sniff sniff—

The poor thing…the bad black coat shall never be the same…--sob--)

"Um…let's take it over to my apartment and I'll see if I can fix it." _I hope I have black thread._

Upon arriving at Robin and Touko's apartment, Amon surrendered the coat to Robin's gentle touch. She got out black thread and a needle and began the process carefully.

Amon paced as though he were an anxious father whose daughter was in surgery. Back and forth, back and forth.

"Amon, please stop pacing. You're making me nervous."

"Sorry," he grunted, and stood restlessly still. Then, a thought occurred to him. "Where's Touko?"

"At work."

"She went back to work already?"

"Yes. She was just fine."

Amon pondered this thoughtfully. Then, restless still, he walked over to the balcony. Then he walked back to check Robin's progress. Then back over to the balcony. Then back to Robin.

"Amon, you're pacing again."

"Grunt," was the reply, typical and Amon-like. He walked back over to the balcony and stayed there for a moment, giving a pedestrian below who was yelling loud obscene things a Sullen Glare Intended To Silence Those Rude Pedestrians Who Insist On Disturbing Delicate Operations Intended To Repair Horrible Injuries To Macho Black Coats. Despite the fact that the pedestrian could not see Amon and thus did not have direct contact with the Glare, he got a chill down his spine and went inside, thus causing Amon to be no longer able to hear his obscenities.

Now that comparative silence reigned on the streets below, Amon had a strong urge to go check on Robin's progress. But he didn't want to appear to be pacing again. So, he walked into the kitchen area and closely examined Abigail the Breadmachine (Ah, his stupid mouth that just _had_ to open up and suggest such a name) before returning once again to Robin's side.

"Robin, can't you hurry? We don't have time."

"You want it to be done well, don't you?"

He grunted. It did not seem macho to agree at that point, and The Grunt was his all-purpose answer to everything.

"Be patient. I'm almost done."

He snorted under his breath (a feat only Amon can accomplish). Then, after a moment, he spoke.

"Robin…can I ask you a question?"

"If it's 'How soon will you be done', then no."

"No…It's this, um, person who keeps following me and showing up everywhere. I need to get…them…off my back. But I can't figure out how. I already tried threats."

Robin bent her head over the coat and rolled her eyes. _I would have never guessed._

"How about asking them politely to leave you alone?"

"I tried that…I think."

"Can't you just avoid this person? Or ask them to communicate by mail?"

Amon pondered. Then, "Thanks, Robin."

"You're…welcome. Here's your coat."

"Good. Let's go. We're already late."

…………………………………

Doujima straightened the number 2 pencil in her hair (which was pulled back into a professional bun), checked her tape recorder, and knocked on the door of Abigail's apartment.

Luckily, it was Abigail herself who opened the door.

"Hello, I'm Miss Lee, a reporter for the Tokyo Times. Are you Abigail DeNoel?"

"Yes."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to interview you on your career as a prophet for the Omnipotent Mother Goddess."

"I suppose that would be alright."

"Good, thank you." Doujima lowered her voice confidentially as she stepped inside. "If the boss doesn't like this one, I'm done for."

"Well, Miss Lee, what would you like to know?"

"Oh, let's see…oh wait, you don't mind if I tape this, do you? It's a lot easier, and there's less chance of misquoting someone."

"Oh, sure, go right ahead."

"Thank you." Doujima turned the tape recorder on and began. "First of all, was this your chosen career, or were you…chosen…by the Goddess?"

"I was chosen. All of the Devoted are chosen by the Goddess to receive a special gift. Actually, the Devoted of any god or goddess are generally given these gifts."

"Tell me about the Devoted."

"Well, the Devoted are a group of people who devote their lives to the work of their chosen god or goddess. Each is given a gift to assist in their work. For example, I was given the gift of prophecy. I know a girl who is a Devoted of the Goddess of Felines who was given the gift of being able to call all cats in a ten mile radius to her aid."

"Fascinating. So, how many gods and goddesses are there?"

"There are hundreds. Generally, there is a designated god or goddess for about anything you can think of."

"Electronic equipment?"

"There is a God of Electronics."

"Wow. Can you give me some other examples?"

"Let's see, there's the Goddess of Vegetables, the God of Beverages, the Goddess of Oatmeal…"

"Oatmeal?"

"Yes. A few years ago I was a Devoted of the Goddess of Oatmeal. She is sister to the Omnipotent Mother Goddess."

"Sister?"

"When they were human they were of the same mother."

"So all the gods and goddesses were formerly human?"

"Yes."

"There's one thing I've noticed, Miss DeNoel. The rest of these gods and goddesses have specific, well, domains. Like oatmeal. But your goddess seems to have no specific…purpose."

"She is the Great _Mother_ Goddess. She oversees the efforts of all the other deities and her 'dominion' is people and the world in general. That is why many of her Devoted serve as prophets. She can help people in general by warning them or advising them by way of her prophets."

"Do you prophesy to one particular person or are there many different people you prophesy to in general?"

"It depends. I go to whom the Goddess calls me. Sometimes in a day I will visit only one person, sometimes three or four."

"I don't suppose you could name any of the people to whom you have prophesied?"

"No. Often their names are not revealed to me, and even the ones I know, I think it would be better if it remained confidential."

"Yes, I understand. Is there anything else you can think of that I should know?"

"That pretty much covers it." Abigail smiled.

"Um, just one more question…off the record if you want."

"Well, I don't know if I want it off the record until I know what the question is."

"Alright, I'll ask it and you tell me. I'll shut the recorder off if you decide…"

"Yes, go ahead."

"Why did you switch from one goddess to another?"

"Hmm…I think I'd rather have this one off the record, if you don't mind."

"Oh, no, not at all." _I hope Amon doesn't get mad at me for this._ She turned off the recorder.

"Well…mostly it was because my role as a Devoted for the Goddess of Oatmeal was not fulfilling enough. But there was another thing that pushed me to leave."

"What?"

"There was a disagreement…among the Oatmealists, as we often called ourselves. It's shorter, you know. I…can't give you the details, but I was on one side and I had a few close co-workers who were on the other. They wanted a radical change to our way of doing things that I thought was wrong. Most of the Oatmealists who thought the way I did were too devoted to leave the Goddess of Oatmeal, but I already felt unfulfilled. So I left. I've been working to prevent their…wrongful change…in my spare time since then."

"I see."

"I've been frightened lately…there was a woman who came with a threat. She said she was from the Oatmealists. But I shouldn't be burdening you with all this. I'm sure you have a deadline to meet."

"Oh, yes…thank you for talking with me. But…there's one thing I've been wondering. Is there a Goddess of Shoes? Or a Goddess of Spike Heels?"

"There is a Devoted for the Goddess of Shoes just outside Tokyo. I can give you an address?"

"No thanks, I just wondered. Shoes are one of my obsessions. I just couldn't help asking. Anyway, thank you for your time, Miss DeNoel."

"You're welcome, Miss Lee. Bye." Tan leather sandals with spike heels clicked down the sidewalk.

………………………………

Whoeeeeeee…long chapter. Hmm, I don't feel talkative at the moment, so allow me to proceed with review responses.

Ais: Heloooooooo! You are the receiver of many salutations from Coco, Slurper, BJ, and Sugar. Their Highnesses wish to inform you that they will not ever desist clawing the screen door until you feed them. Do not ask me why they are telling _you_ that. Coco wants to know if Pester would be interested in being pen pals. –snork-- :D

May spackle be ever with you,

Hyde

Ein: Yes, poor Amon. He is quite tortured. His mental anguish must be overbearing. We weep many tears for him.

St Earns: I have never really been to Tennessee, but I have driven through it. Very pretty. Ais tells me you brought your niece back with you.

Yes, I had trouble typing bananas. I kept wanting to type bananan or something like that instead.

Broom probe…interesting, yet also accurate way of putting it. –hee hee-- --snork-- Isn't snork such a great expressive word?

May patchouli ever reign supreme,

The Hyde

Carri: Hi Carri! My recent devoted reviewer from the mental ward! Lol! I have a cousin named Carrie, only as you can see, it's with an –ie. Great and useless trivia that shall ever serve you well. I shall try to update as soon as I can. We must go at the pace that the Fount of Inspiration dictates.

May Monterey Jack cheese be ever in existence,

Hyde

CrazyTomboy: Thank you for intending to review ch 7, even though it never happened. –sniff— I sympathize with your aunt and uncle difficulties, though I have never experienced them. Almost all my cousins are older.

Well, I suppose I better finish this thing. Too late to post it yet tonight, I'll post it tomorrow.

May patchouli never desert you in time of need,

Hyde, Torturer of Touko, Irker of Amon, and Promoter of Patchouli As A Term Of General, Varied, And Handy Usage


	10. In which the tape is heard by various pe...

Disclaimer: I do not own anything mentioned or contained in this chapter. Those wishing to sue can go sue someone else.

Hyde A/N: I am afraid this might be one of those 'brief interludes'. See, I'm on a tight schedule because of vacation coming up soon… Hopefully I will get this posted before I leave. Well, I guess it's time to dig in. –grabs virtual shovel—

Amon: --runs in fear--

……………………………

Amon stared at the tape he had retrieved from his mailbox. It didn't really matter anymore. Robin had swayed him from his previously planned course of action. He realized it would be much easier just to ask her to send her prophecies by mail or email. That way he didn't have to read them if he didn't want to.

But Amon (though of course he would never admit it) was curious. So, he put it in a tape player and listened. He learned about the Devoted and about Abigail. Then, he came to a certain part near the end of the tape.

"'Um, just one more question…off the record if you want.'

'Well, I don't know if I want it off the record until I know what the question is.'

'Alright, I'll ask it and you tell me. I'll shut the recorder off if you decide…'

'Yes, go ahead.'

'Why did you switch from one goddess to another?'

'Hmm…I think I'd rather have this one off the record, if you don't mind.'

'Oh, no, not at all.'" Click. The tape ended.

Amon growled ferociously. He slammed his hand on the table. He pretended it didn't hurt afterwards.

Calm down, he reasoned with himself. _It doesn't matter anymore._

But she still didn't… he argued with himself.

It doesn't matter. Let it go.

But she…argh, I wanted to know that. It was crucial! he growled at his voice of reason.

You can ask her when you go in to work this evening.

I have the evening off, he protested.

Not anymore.

………………………………

Back at the STN-J, Michael and the other hunters (sans Robin, who also had the evening off for a dentist appointment) were listening to a copy of the tape Doujima had made.

They listened to it straight through first, without interruption.

"I don't hear many clues," Michael said.

"Well," retorted Doujima, "there might be some clues that aren't so obvious."

"But she never said a single thing about Amon, or anything to do with Amon," Sakaki argued.

"How do we know they don't have anything to do with Amon?" Karasuma asked. There were no replies. "Let go at this systematically. Michael, play each question and answer and after each one we'll decide if there is anything in the answer that could have to do with Amon. I'll make a list of possibilities and we'll investigate them. Got it?"

All three nodded.

"Michael, pull up a blank document for me to put the list on. Doujima, rewind the tape and get ready to stop it when necessary."

"What about me?" Sakaki asked.

"Just sit there."

Sakaki frowned and opened another bag of cheetos.

Doujima started the tape.

"First of all, was this your chosen career, or were you…chosen…by the Goddess?"

"I was chosen. All of the Devoted are chosen by the Goddess to receive a special gift. Actually, the Devoted of any god or goddess are generally given these gifts."

"Not much there," Michael said.

"I agree," Karasuma added. "Next."

"Tell me about the Devoted."

"Well, the Devoted are a group of people who devote their lives to the work of their chosen god or goddess. Each is given a gift to assist in their work. For example, I was given the gift of prophecy. I know a girl who is a Devoted of the Goddess of Felines who was given the gift of being able to call all cats in a ten mile radius to her aid."

"Somehow, I don't think Amon is a devoted," Doujima commented.

"Yeah, I just can't see it," was Sakaki's input.

"Fascinating. So, how many gods and goddesses are there?"

"There are hundreds. Generally, there is a designated god or goddess for about anything you can think of."

"Electronic equipment?"

"There is a God of Electronics."

"Wow. Can you give me some other examples?"

"Let's see, there's the Goddess of Vegetables, the God of Beverages, the Goddess of Oatmeal…"

"Somehow, I don't think this part is particularly pertinent," Michael said.

"We're never going to find anything!" Doujima moaned.

"Don't start griping yet, we aren't done." Guess who.

"Oatmeal?"

"Yes. A few years ago I was a Devoted of the Goddess of Oatmeal. She is sister to the Omnipotent Mother Goddess."

"Sister?"

"When they were human they were of the same mother."

"So all the gods and goddesses were formerly human?"

"Yes."

"There's a part that might have a clue," said Doujima as she stopped the tape. "The first part. Where she said she used to be with the Goddess of Oatmeal."

"Yes…I'll make a note that we should find out something about these Oatmealists."

"There's one thing I've noticed, Miss DeNoel. The rest of these gods and goddesses have specific, well, domains. Like oatmeal. But your goddess seems to have no specific…purpose."

"She is the Great Mother Goddess. She oversees the efforts of all the other deities and her 'dominion' is people and the world in general. That is why many of her Devoted serve as prophets. She can help people in general by warning them or advising them by way of her prophets."

"I wish we were writing a news article," Doujima said.

"Why?" Sakaki asked.

"It would be a heck of a lot easier."

"Anyone hear any clues?" Karasuma cut in.

No answer.

"Do you prophesy to one particular person or are there many different people you prophesy to in general?"

"It depends. I go to whom the Goddess calls me. Sometimes in a day I will visit only one person, sometimes three or four."

"Oh…I just had an idea," Doujima burst out.

"Really?" Sakaki asked.

Doujima whacked him with a conveniently nearby handbag.

"Hey, use your own handbag!" Karasuma protested.

"What's your idea, Doujima?" Michael asked.

"Well, we should look into this prophet thing. Maybe Amon's mixed up in that somehow. Maybe someone's prophesying to him."

"Why would he threaten a prophet with an orbo gun and then try to find out all about them? It just wouldn't make sense." Karasuma offered her convincing argument.

"Good idea anyway, Doujima," Michael consoled her.

"But this is Amon. Orbo guns are all he knows," Sakaki added.

"He has a girlfriend. Obviously he is not limited to orbo guns," Karasuma argued back scathingly. "I would imagine his experience with Touko has taught him that orbo is not the only way."

"Okay, if we're not going to write down my idea, can we move on?" Doujima interrupted.

"I don't suppose you could name any of the people to whom you have prophesied?"

"No. Often their names are not revealed to me, and even the ones I know, I think it would be better if it remained confidential."

"No clues there," said Karasuma. "Move on."

"Yes, I understand. Is there anything else you can think of that I should know?"

"That pretty much covers it." Abigail smiled.

"Um, just one more question…off the record if you want."

"Well, I don't know if I want it off the record until I know what the question is."

"Alright, I'll ask it and you tell me. I'll shut the recorder off if you decide…"

"Yes, go ahead."

"Why did you switch from one goddess to another?"

"Hmm…I think I'd rather have this one off the record, if you don't mind."

"Oh, no, not at all."

"Doujima, WHY did you have to turn that tape recorder off?"

"Hey, I didn't want her to get suspicious that this was not just a newspaper interview. I'll tell you all I can remember about her answer to the last question." She closed her eyes in contemplation.

"Well?" Sakaki was getting impatient.

"She said there was a…disagreement among the Oatmealists. Some of them wanted some change and some of them didn't. She left because she didn't want the change and she did not think her work was fulfilling enough."

"Was that it?"

"No, she said something else…I think that she was still working to prevent the change, even though she isn't an Oatmealist anymore. She thought that's why I was there."

"She didn't know it was you, did she?" Sakaki asked.

"Of course not, dodo brain. How could she?"

Sakaki sulked and shoved a handful of cheetos into his mouth with orange fingers.

"Sakaki," Michael spoke for the first time since the tape ended, "Don't get anywhere near my computer with those orange hands."

"Are there any clues in this one?" Karasuma asked, trying to stick to the point.

"I don't think so particularly," said Doujima, "But I think we really need to find out about these Oatmealists."

"Look, you guys," Sakaki said, "Face it. Amon is crazy. There is no other explanation."

"But the Oatmealists…" Karasuma protested.

"A guy would have to be crazy to get mixed up with Oatmealists and the Omnipotent Mother Goddess."

"Holy $#&, Sakaki's actually right!" Doujima cried.

Sakaki scowled and threw cheetos at her.

"Ahh! Sakaki! Don't get cheetos on my new outfit!"

"How about your hair?" he asked with an evil grin as he dropped and handful on her head. She squealed and danced in circles, trying to get them out.

"Augh! Stay away from my computer! Cheeto…dust…near…my…computer…"

"WHAT'S GOING ON IN HERE?" Uh oh. The Chief.

They all began talking at once. "Sakaki…on my new outfit…" "She called me…" "It was Sakaki…" "…near my computer!"

"QUIET!" Immediate silence reigned. "I don't care what happened. I just want all of you back to work, NOW! Where's Amon?"

"He has the night off," Sakaki said timidly.

"Urggg…night off…waste of money…waste of time…" Kosaka muttered, and walked out.

…………………………………

Hmm, maybe not so brief an interlude, with all the replays of Doujima and Abigail.

Star Trek the Original Series was on all morning today on SciFi. YAY! It was on in the afternoon too but I didn't get a chance to watch it. –dances in joyous circles—

Bum bum ba bum bum ba BUMMMMM! Boop bee dee dee beep deedley doomp daddely dooooom! Ba da bee ba doom bamp ba da DUUUUM! Review responses!

St Earns: So, does your niece like WHR? I mean, it would be very difficult not to but I spose there are people who don't. Hard to imagine. Am I getting off subject?

I believe Robin was concerned that she had the proper shade of black. As she wears black all the time, she is very black-conscientious. You see, the trained black-wearing eye can perceive infinite shades of black, and the Bad Black Coat happened to be a strange shade which Robin had never really worn before.

You said something about you could almost believe it was a serious interview; well, I had to be careful I didn't let it get too serious, if you can imagine. As I was writing it I was thinking, man, this is too serious, I should change it, but then I figured there wasn't much else I could do with it and considering the subject matter it should sound ridiculous enough to be funny. Apparently, it worked out okay. This chapter was a little more goofy/lighthearted with more obvious humor, which is okay too. Akh, look at how long this is! I won't have room for anyone else's response at this rate.

May a hammock never come along and randomly fart in your front yard,

Hyde

Saikoubi Sama: Am I being showered with butter pecan ice cream? lol!

What a coincidence, I too am quite devoted to that personage. I love cats. And dogs. But cats a little more. There are a pair of really sweet dogs next door. They are both girls, and very friendly. Only problem is our cats hate them with a passion.Thus you can only play with the dogs if the cats aren't around.

May the Goddess of Felines smile upon you,

Hyde

Carri: How's this for 'as soon as I can'? I wrote this chapter all the same day I posted the last one. But I wanted to get another one in before I'm gone for a week on vacation. I'll miss you all! –sniffle—

I, too, have not much of a life. At least not during the summer. During the summer, my life is fanfics and marching band camp. Then, during school, my life is fanfics, school, and band. Pretty pathetic, but its okay.

May snorkels comfort you in times of sorrow,

Hyde

CrazyTomboy: I might try the same, except I think Southern Indiana people are too conservative for the Goddess of Anime. lol!

Thank you. You know, sometimes it surprises me how much people love me and Ais's stuff. I guess it's kinda individual. I sure haven't found anything else like it in my experience.

May giant orcs never invade your living room,

Hyde

Robin Michael's Pyro Angel: Yes, I know glassful is a word and if I'd been thinking right at the time I would have known so. See, I have this one track mind… Anyway, I had a few other people tell me that too. I'm glad you like the story. That is why I post, cuz people like it.

May you never find bananas in your bathroom,

Hyde

**Sorry if I missed anyone but I had to get this posted today cuz we are probably leaving on vacation tomorrow.**

**Okie dokie, there it is. And just to inform people, I shall be gone on vacation from July 22 to July 29, so the next chapter might be a little while. But I shall try to post as soon as I can after I get back.**

**May spackle fly in your dreams,**

**Hyde**


	11. In which things go wrong

****

Disclaimer: I do not own anything contained, mentioned, or otherwise written in this chapter.

Hyde A/N: I'm baaaaack!

Audience: --cowers in fear--

I plan to make this chapter short. But we shall see. Usually when I plan a short chapter it turns out long, like the last chapter. But this one shall be short. I shall try my utmost. Why do I want it short? Because I want to get this posted ASAP because I've been on vacation for a week and you poor deprived people deserve your chapter. So anyway. Here goes.

"AMON! THERE YOU ARE! WHO INFORMED YOU THAT YOU COULD HAVE THE NIGHT OFF?"

"You did…sir."

"ME? Well, at least you had the sense to come in."

"Yes sir."

"Someone, make a note of this: no more nights off! Got it?" Kosaka swept his eyes about the room. The STN-J members (excluding Amon) cowered under his glare.

"Yes sir," chorused throughout the room.

"Okay, where's Robin? I want you to take her along on this one. She's the only one who can handle these trashcan-throwing demons…"

"She has the night off," Sakaki volunteered, and cringed.

"SHE HAS THE NIGHT OFF?"

"Wait, Chief, what one am I taking her on?" Amon asked.

"HERE!" Kosaka shoved a file into Amon's hands. "Look it over on your way out. And pick up Robin on the way."

"Uh, Chief," Michael interjected hesitantly, "She has a dentist appointment."

"Oh, great! What am I going to do with you people? Take someone else then."

"Doujima. Come on." Amon turned and strode out, leaving no room for argument.

"But Amon!"

"Are you sure?" the Chief called after Amon.

"Yes," he said firmly and darkly. "Come on Doujima, let's go."

At that moment, pandemonium struck.

"Zwoooooooooop…" said the computers.

"AUGH!!!!!!" Michael screamed. "My computer! It just shut down without my consent!" He dove for the machine, knocking Doujima aside.

"Hey!" she yelled.

"Michael!" Karasuma yelled.

"My cheetos!" cried Sakaki, who had just dropped said articles on the floor in the confusion of the moment.

"What's going on here?" Kosaka growled.

"Doujima. Let's go." Amon said darkly and insistently, but to no effect.

"No!" Michael cried. "No, please, say it isn't…" There he broke off and began frantically tapping keys and pushing buttons.

"Michael!" Doujima said, and tapped the frantic creature on the shoulder. She looked very mad.

"Later," Michael said distractedly. "My computer! My databanks!"

"Michael, what is going on?" Karasuma asked impatiently.

"Ah, well, a little dust won't hurt," Sakaki said to whoever happened to be listening. He shoved three cheetos into his mouth.

Amon, realizing the seriousness of the situation, was no longer in a hurry to leave. "Michael. What's the extent of the damage? Did you lose anything?"

"I don't know," Michael said frantically, "and I can't find out!"

"MICHAEL! Listen to me!" Doujima screamed shrilly.

Kosaka had long ago abandoned the mess which passed as his employees and retired to his office to take more blood pressure medicine.

"MICHAEL!" Doujima yelled.

"Michael," Amon said intensely.

"Michael…" Karasuma said, having decided that whatever had just happened it was bad and it was Michael's fault.

"Some cheetos, Michael?" Sakaki asked, apparently oblivious to the fact that something was horribly wrong. He picked one up off the floor and extended it toward the frantic Michael.

"Would you guys be quiet and let me concentrate?" Michael asked, turning around for the first time since his beloved computer had gone kerplunk.

"But Michael!" Doujima protested.

"Sure you don't want a cheeto?" Sakaki queried.

"Have you found anything out?" Amon asked.

"Oop," Sakaki said. "There's a cheeto under the computer." He stuck his front half underneath the table with the purpose of retrieving it. No one noticed. They were all too busy trying to get Michael's attention for their own demands and purposes.

"Michael," Doujima said. "LISTEN TO ME MICHAEL!"

"Mmm…later…pixel points…" Michael muttered distractedly.

"Well, looky here," Sakaki said, his voice slightly muffled. "Something chewed through this huge wire."

Michael only heard Sakaki's words in the back of his mind, but as soon as they registered he jumped to his feet and yelled, "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?"

"I said, Michael…" Doujima started.

"No, not you," Michael said crossly, "Sakaki."

"I said something chewed through this huge wire."

"SOMETHING CHEWED THROUGH A WIRE?" Michael dove under the table, knocking Sakaki back and scattering the cheetos he had so diligently picked up.

"No, my cheetos!" Sakaki cried.

"No, the wire!" Michael cried.

Both looked on the verge of sobbing.

Sakaki scrambled to rescue his cheetos before they were stepped on. Michael scrambled out from under the table and ran to a storage closet. He rooted through boxes muttering technical mumbo-jumbo that no one but he could comprehend.

"What, Michael, what is it?" the girls clamored, while Amon lounged against a nearby wall and attempted to look macho and uninterested and at the same time figure out what was going on.

Sakaki, meanwhile, had retreated with his cheetos to his computer and was adding yet another layer of cheeto dust to his keyboard (and his fingers, which we must assume are perpetually orange).

"Ah ha!" Michael cried suddenly, causing both girls to jump and Amon to slightly widen his eyes. "Here it is!"

"What?" Karasuma and Doujima asked simultaneously.

"The extra cord. It's identical to the one that was chewed through." Michael dashed over to the computer and began a cord exchange, which involved plugging and unplugging a lot of cords and wires.

"There." Michael said finally.

"Zoooooweeeeeeep…" said the computers, coming back to life.

There was a cheer throughout the room (in which Amon took no part).

"Michael…" Doujima said threateningly when the moment of joy was past, "Can I talk to you?"

"Not now…hafta run a check of all files and systems…two or three hours…"

"Come on Doujima, let's go," Amon said, and he considered dragging her from the building. Only considered.

"But…" she stammered.

"Now." He stalked out, and she reluctantly followed his retreating back.

"Why me?" she moaned, to no one in particular.

****

Wow, that _was_ brief. Well, relatively. Yay for brief interludes! Anywho, I should be able to post this tonight, or at least tomorrow. Yippee!

Since I am at a loss for a conversational interlude, I shall move on to review responses.

Carri: You know what, I'm not dirt broke because I hardly ever spend any money and I just got loads for confirmation not too long ago, but my parents won't give me an allowance either. Sucks, but I suppose I don't really need it now that I have a whole lot from confirmation and I just got twenty in belated birthday money over vacation. And my parents aren't exactly rich either. Vacation was nice but it was mostly visiting relatives. I shall get around to Touko again at some point but the story line insists on going a different direction for now. I had this wonderful inspiration for a new nuisance for Amon but I completely forgot it. Which is annoying. Anyway, enough blabbing for now.

May your potatoes never be sautéed in motor oil,

Hyde

****

St Earns: I'm glad she likes it. Well, how could anyone not like WHR? I cannot imagine such a horror. A world in which people do not like WHR. –weeps at the thought—

No, most of Doujima's red hair is gone, except a stubborn streak behind her left ear. My parents don't allow any food around the computer whatsoever (especially since its fairly new, like 1998 or so, if that's considered fairly new anymore).

I loved writing this chapter. I kept cracking myself up with Sakaki and his cheetos. Speaking of writing chapters, Ais hasn't put out a new chapter or Amon and Laundry for a while now. Though I understand her computer is under repair (poor Luisne!). She didn't review this chapter yet either, which is perhaps for the same reason. Anyway, May noxious oatmeal cookies never invade your green beans,

Hyde

****

Saikoubi Sama: Yes, the chapter was quite filler-like, but considering that I set up such a situation in the previous chapter I went ahead and wrote it anyway. This one is not filler-like, but rather a brief continuation of previous plots, or something. You can't really call it a brief interlude because its not quite an interlude. Anyway…

May your dreams be filled with cotton candy (and not with puzzle pieces like mine were the other night),

Hyde (AKA: Hyde)

****

CrazyTomboy: Yuck! No I haven't and I never wish to. Gross. I did have a pretty good time. I completed, um, three books, worked on a 1000 piece puzzle, bought (or rather, mom bought) a dress I really wanted that was on clearance, and other things associated with visiting my reletives.

Oh, and sorry, but Amon Has a Cold is terminated for now. If I ever get an inspiration I might work on it again but at this point I have enough to do with this one.

May some random person I am acquainted with's guinea pig never squeal in your left ear with piercing timbre (if that's the proper musical term),

Hyde

****

Ow. Been to the Indy Air Show over the weekend and sunburned my upper lip so bad it's blistering. If that's never happened to you before, you don't want it to. But it was pretty cool. They had the Thunderbirds there, and if you've never seen the Thunderbirds, you should. Its cool. They fly around like two feet away from each other in formation in F-16 jets.

Sorry, I would have had this posted a day sooner but document manager was offline for repairs when I tried, so…

May helicopters never land on your roof,

Hyde


	12. in which Touko returns to the plot

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the things in this chapter, and if you have a problem with that, too bad.

Hyde A/N: Well. Band camp looms in the near future. And I am sunburned. So that is not good. But I shall try to get this chapter done, despite sunburn and band camp.

......................................

Amon stared straight ahead. Doujima read over the file in silence. Amon wasn't sure how to introduce the subject of Abigail. As he turned a left corner, Doujima sighed suddenly causing him to blink in surprise.

"Amon, why do you keep taking me on these things?" she asked. "Do I have another top secret mission or something?"

"No."

"Good. So why did you bring _me_? I'm not any good."

"I want to talk to you. About your last mission."

"Yes?" _Great,_ she thought, _he's going to chew me out for not taping that part._

"About that part that wasn't on the tape…Why didn't you tape it?"

"Because she would have gotten suspicious if I did," Doujima said, expecting him to offer some alternative to what she had done no matter what.

To her surprise, he merely nodded and continued. "So what did she say?"

"Um, something about there was some kind of argument among the Oatmealists and some people wanted to change something that she didn't want to change so she left. And she's been working since to prevent that change."

"She didn't say what it was?"

"No. She said she wasn't going to. I suppose a privacy thing. She didn't want me to go digging into it."

"A real journalist would have investigated it anyway." Amon mused. "Oh well, it probably doesn't matter."

Doujima paused. This behavior was completely unexpected. Judging from his earlier actions, she would have thought the thing about the Oatmealist feud would have been the thing he'd be most interested in. After a moment, she said, "Good…" and lapsed again into silence, reading the folder without really reading it.

........................................

Abigail walked in and dropped her mail on the counter. She took off her shoes and sifted through it.

Her attention was caught by a letter with no return address, addressed to Abigail DeNoel. She opened it curiously. Inside was a single sheet of white paper on which was typed the following message:

This is Amon, the person to whom you gave the prophecy 'Greater love hath no woman than for her bread machine.' It would be appreciated if you could correspond from now on by mail. It would be much more convenient. My address is [this part omitted for protection of privacy]

She looked at it, first right side up, then sideways. She had never encountered such a request before.

"Must consult with the Goddess…" she muttered to herself.

......................................

Robin rinsed her mouth out eleven times, then drank a cup of coffee, but to no avail. She could not shake the nasty, gritty taste of that awful toothpaste that dentists insist upon using.

Suddenly, Touko burst in.

"Coffee…"

Robin wordlessly handed her a cup. She guzzled it at first, then settled into a chair and let the warmth of the cup sooth her nerves.

"What happened?" Robin asked softly, when Touko had calmed somewhat.

"This whole day hath been muchly bad." Touko said in prelude.

Muchly? Robin thought. It was her first clue that something was wrong.

"First, I hath a headache, so Chloe gaveth me some medicine that she said would maketh me assuredly better."

Is it just me, or is her Elizabethan English just a little more modern and a little out of whack? Robin wondered to herself.

"Well, it maketh me better, but now I hath been chased by the Easter Bunny for many hours…I think."

"You think you've been chased?"

"No…I knoweth I been chased, I don't know 'fit was hours…mighta been weeks…"

Robin was now quite sure that something was wrong.

Then, Touko looked at the wall with eyes wide with fright.

"No, Robin, why'd ya letim in? No, please, leaveth me alone…"

"Come on, Touko, we're going to see the doctor…" Robin took Touko's arm and led her away. Then she thought of something. She didn't have a car, and Touko couldn't drive in this state.

What now?

.........................................

Amon's communicator let out a beepish sort of noise. He gave it a Sullen Glare That Smashes All Annoying Electronic Devices. Electronic devices were macho, but ceaselessly annoying.

Doujima watched as he made a series of grunts and small noncommittal words such as 'yes' and 'um' into his communicator.

"Who is it?" she asked.

Ignoring her, he said, "We'll be there," and hung up.

"Where are we being?" she asked, when he made no move to tell her.

"Something's wrong with Touko. We're going to take her to the doctor."

"Oh. Not something serious, I hope?"

"I don't know."

"It's not her traumatic stress again, is it?"

"I…don't…know…" said Amon slowly and deliberately, as if to pound it into Doujima's head that he knew nothing whatsoever. It didn't work.

"Was that Robin?"

"Yes."

"Where was she? At the apartment?"

"Yes."

"Which doctor are we taking her to?"

"I don't know." By this point Amon had resigned himself to a fate worse than death: Doujima's incessant questioning.

"Did Robin say what exactly was wrong with her?"

"No."

"Well, does Robin think its tra…I mean, post-traumatic stress again?"

"I don't know."

Thankfully, for Amon's sanity, they soon arrived at Robin and Touko's apartment, where Robin and Touko were waiting outside.

Doujima jumped out.

"Hi, Robin! How's Touko?"

"About the same."

Suddenly, Touko burst into laughter, startling Robin and Doujima and making Amon raise an eyebrow.

"Ha ha…snorkel…he ha hee hee…wooooo!" or something to that effect came out of Touko's mouth. She stumbled to her feet and began laughing and doing something that looked like a dance to inaudible music.

"Whooo hoooo! Party…hee hee…-snort-…" She bumped into Amon, who forced her into the back seat. He somehow managed to climb in after her and toss Doujima the keys at the same time.

"Which doctor are we going to?" Doujima asked as she started the car.

"The nearest one," said Robin and Amon at the same time.

Doujima drove like a maniac, secretly happy to finally be able to drive the macho black Audi. Robin sat in the front seat next to Doujima, clinging to the armrests in terror. Amon was torn between trying to restrain Touko, who still seemed under the impression that a party was going on, and fearing for the well being of his car.

Touko turned her head to look out the window and suddenly screamed shrilly. Doujima was so startled that the car swerved, cause Robin to let out a soft cry of terror.

"The bongimonkey!" Touko yelled. "It's on the window! Get it off! Get it off!" She clung to Amon's arm and leaned away from the supposedly bongimonkeyed window, squealing.

"We'll be lucky if we make it there alive," Doujima said over Touko's squeals.

.....................................

Well, band camp is finally over so I better get this posted. Today is the first day without band camp, so I plan on hanging around home doing nothing and actually relaxing.

Carri: Well, this is as soon as I can. Band camp takes up nine hours a day, you know. That doesn't leave much other time. Thankfully, my parents don't smoke and rarely borrow money from me. And I hide some of it, so no one knows where it is. I have a twenty somewhere under my bed. I think in a shoebox.

Yay for the requested Touko-bashing! It has returned! I love writing Touko-bashing. Its so fun At band camp I had an inspiration for something weird for Touko to say that involves donuts and Jehosephat. Did I spell that right? I shall have to look it up when I write the next chapter.

CrazyTomboy: Sure, whatever, go ahead. I'll even read it if you write it. :) You have my official permission. –writes out long technical virtual contract giving rights to CrazyTomboy and Mental—

I may not like hot chocolate mix right from the package, but I like other weird things like liver and gizzards. Yum.

St Earns: I would like to meet this niece of yours. She likes WHR and the cowpit! Exactly how old is she? I haven't been to the Holy Shrine which is Ais's home for practically all summer, I've been so busy. Maybe I should try to do that before school starts on the 17th.

Yeah, Robin goes to a night dentist. Its so crowded with people in WHR world that dentists have to work around the clock to get everybody in for all their checkups and fillings. –finds something inanely humorous about that and dissolves into giggles—

May your jeep never hatch a plot to take over the world,

Hyde

Okie dokie. There we are. All done. So I can finally post and Carri will not sic a legion of undead minions on me.

May orcs never crash your Winter Solstice Party,

Hyde


	13. in which about twelve things happen at r...

****

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the things mentioned, referred to, or written concerning in this chapter.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Touko leaned forward in the back seat of Amon's car and said under her breath to no one in particular, "And there were donuts in the tents of Jehoshaphat."

"Who's that?" Doujima asked. Touko didn't answer, being preoccupied by a fit of hysterics brought on inadvertently by Amon, who had adjusted his coat and shaken his head. Who knows why Touko found this so hysterically funny.

"Jehoshaphat is a biblical character," said Robin, in answer to Doujima's question. "But the Bible doesn't mention donuts."

Amon had a thought that it was rather good the Bible didn't mention donuts, otherwise the foundations of society would likely have been shaken to the roots. But as it was, society remained with its foundations as secure as possible, the tents of Jehoshaphat were donut-free, and Touko was under the impression that the Amon's car was covered in worms.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The doctor entered the waiting room and Robin walked up to him.

"How is she, doctor? What is it?"

"I can't be for sure; I'd like to ask you a few questions. Is she any on medication?"

"No. She was a few days ago, but she's off it now."

"What was it?"

"A sedative."

"Why was she taking it?"

"She had some sort of post-traumatic stress."

"I see. And she appeared to be over that?"

"Yes."

"Has she taken any other medicine recently, to your knowledge?"

"She mentioned someone giving her medicine for a headache."

"I see."

"Then she said she was being chased by the Easter Bunny," Doujima piped up helpfully. She'd gotten the whole story out of Robin while they were in the waiting room.

The doctor looked over at Doujima, gave her a vague facsimile of a nod, and turned back to Robin. "Has she any history of nervous or mental disorders?"

"Not that I know of. But I didn't know her well enough to know. Do you know, Amon?" Robin asked.

The doctor seemed to notice for the first time that Amon existed, and was slightly shaken by the revelation. His office was not normally frequented by dark, ominous individuals with longish black hair hanging in their faces. It perturbed him that such a creature should be seen within a mile of his respected establishment. He gave a vague facsimile of a gulp.

Amon, rather than replying audibly, shook his head. It was the Amon way. Unfortunately, it made the doctor rather more uneasy. The doctor also wondered what a well-dressed high-society-looking young lady was doing with a dark, ominous individual and a shrimp of a girl in a black, sort of Victorian-style dress, and why the three of them together should be taking a pretty, secretary-looking type to the doctor. It puzzled him to no end.

At the moment, though, he was more concerned with the puzzle of how to remove this dark individual from the premises without causing offence. He got the feeling that, should he offend Amon, Amon would track him down with an ominous gun under that ominous black coat.

"With your permission," the doctor said, "I'm going to run a few blood tests. They will be done by tomorrow, and I'd like to keep her here until then."

"That's fine," said the shrimp-of-a-girl. "We'll go."

"Shouldn't someone stay?" the well-dressed one asked.

"She'll be fine," the shrimp-of-a-girl assured her.

As the doctor walked back down a white hall to rejoin Touko, he heard an argument between the shrimp-of-a-girl and the well-dressed girl about giving car keys to Amon.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

On the way back to drop Robin off at her house, Robin sat in the front seat next to Amon, calm and quiet as usual. Amon drove, sullen and quiet as usual. Doujima sat in the backseat, sulking.

"Why can't I drive?" Doujima asked.

"You almost wrecked my car thirteen times," Amon replied darkly. **(Hyde A/N: He was counting?)**

Doujima had no reply to that. She turned to Robin.

"Robin, can't you burn him until he lets me drive?"

That brought Robin's highly sensitive mind the picture of Amon burning in flames of her creation. She shuddered, and her vision blurred.

"No," she said.

"Aw, please?"

"No." With difficulty, she kept her voice from breaking, and averted her face to the window, staring at but not watching the scenery.

Doujima then realized that Robin was upset for some reason. She switched back to Amon.

"Please, Amon?"

"No. We're almost to Robin's apartment anyway."

When they got there, Robin got out of the car and walked to her door with out looking back.

"Come on, Amon, switch with me. Just to drive back to STN-J!" she heard behind her back, the sound muffled through the doors of the car. She didn't hear Amon's "No," but she assumed its existence. As the car pulled away, she turned in front of the door to watch it disappear around the corner. The image she'd seen in her mind burned in front of her eyes, Amon disappearing in flames.

Finally, she let one of the tears go, now that there was no one to see. It dribbled down her cheek, tickling her. She went inside and quietly made a cup of coffee in the new coffeemaker she had bought recently for herself. (Luckily, Touko had made no attempt to name it.)

She turned on the TV. First it blared out a cat food commercial, then flipped to a soap opera. Ugh. She changed the channel. Perfume commercial, sports news, a commercial that seemed to have no point whatsoever (Robin didn't even want to know). She finally settled on News Channel 365, and watched a segment on the dangers of a new prescription drug while trying to use her hot coffee to wash away the horrible image that still lingered in the back of her mind.

****

(Hyde A/N: I couldn't help myself. I had to put in the Sad And Emotional Robin Scene. Don't worry. We will now resume your normal hilarious programing.)

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Doujima stomped unhappily into the STN-J building, trailed a minute later by Amon.

"Hi, Doujima," said Michael as she entered. He had finished running his Scan of All Systems and was now conducting some of that never-ending research that he seemed to be always conducting.

Doujima, in response, whacked him over the head with a purse (hers this time, not Karasuma's).

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Yeah, what was that for?" Sakaki added.

Doujima, since she happened to be walking past him to get wherever she was going, she whacked Sakaki too.

"Ow!"

Just as Doujima left the scene, Amon entered.

"Stay away from Doujima, Amon," Michael warned him. "She's on a rampage with her purse." He rubbed his head, trying to convince it to stop aching so he could concentrate on hacking into various databases.

Amon did not respond (of course) but kept on walking.

Meanwhile, Doujima encountered Karasuma.

"Hi Doujima," said Karasuma cheerfully. "Why are you guys so late? We were about to leave without waiting for your report."

"Everything went fine, but then Robin called. Touko is sick or something and we had to take her to the doctor."

Karasuma then realized that Doujima was in an irritated mood. "What's wrong, Doujima?" she asked.

"Nothing," Doujima said, embarrassed to admit that she was upset because Amon wouldn't let her drive the Macho Black Audi. Somehow, she got the feeling it wouldn't rank high on Karasuma's List Of Things It Is Acceptable To Be Upset About.

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Well, this chapter has taken considerably forever because unlike some chapters I never wrote a lot at a time, so its been like a week since my last post. Plus, I've been working on the first and probably only chapter of a new fic I'm writing called Amon and the Dreaded Friday. I haven't posted it yet but I will as soon as I get it done. It's humor too, but it doesn't sound like it at first. The writing style is a little different too. But its something different to work on. So anyway. On to review responses.

St Earns: I hate dentist toothpaste. And that disgusting artificially flavored junk referred to as 'fluoride'. That stuff makes me gag. Ugh. Just thinking about it is making me feel like I've just had my teeth brushed with the evil liquefied coarse-grit sandpaper (as you put it) that masquerades under the alias of 'toothpaste'. –shudders-- On to another subject.

So your niece is in me and Ais's grade, huh? I don't start school til August 17, which is a lot better than most schools. Ais is lucky. She's homeschooled, so she can start whenever she wants. I can't say whether starting high school is a 'yay!' thing or not. Except that I get to take Spanish this year. That's good. I'd rather take German or Latin or Greek (those are the three languages I'd love to learn someday) but my school only offers Spanish. Not even French.

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Hunter-Robin: Yes, Doujima's lucky, isn't she. If only we all had a black Amonish Audi to drive around. It would be so fun.

Well, it's not that Touko had too much meds, it's the kind of meds she had. But you'll find that out eventually, probably next chapter depending on how it works out.

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Carri: How did they ever find it under your mattress? They must have had secret cameras installed or something. If you have any books or magazines or something in your room you should try hiding it in one of them. Books are especially good for that, but a magazine might work too. Of course, you may have already tried that and I may be babbling on for nothing, but oh well.

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CrazyTomboy: You're welcome. Send me a link or something whenever you get it posted. I want to read it.

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Okay. There we are. Thank you to all reviewers. –passes out virtual ice cream cones—

May your printer never randomly decide to spit out charcoal from an alternate universe,

Hyde


	14. Mr Llama and Amon vs childproof cap

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Disclaimer: If I owned this, I would be rich and happy. As it is, I'm not rich and only happy part of the time, like when I get new clothes or something. So as you see, I don't own anything in here. Anyone who wishes to buy the rights to WHR for my birthday in eight months is welcome.

Hyde A/N: Yet another chapter. I was going to ask all you people something but now I forget. Patchoulibob. Maybe I'll remember it later. Anyway, today is a good day cuz Star Trek the Original Series was on Sci Fi today and its gunna be again tomorrow. Which is unusual. But good. I watched the first five episodes of Noir the other day at Ais's house and I have decided that Noir and WHR tie for the two best anime in existence. Okay, I shall not talk forever. I assume you all want to read about Touko's diagnosis.

Oh, yeah, I was going to post that new fic thing today. Okay, I'm going to go do that and then I will get on with the story, I promise.

……………………

"Miss Sena?"

"Yes?" Robin stood up in the doctor's waiting room. Amon, sitting beside her, looked up.

"The doctor will see you."

"Thank you," said Robin softly. She and Amon followed the nurse back to the room where Touko was kept.

"Hello, Miss Sena," said the doctor as she entered. His smile of greeting fell slightly flat when he saw Amon behind her.

"Well," Robin asked anxiously, "did you find out what was wrong?"

"Yes, I did. Your friend had within her blood system the rare herbal remedy Patackaea. **(Note: Patackaea does not actually exist and the author does not claim its actual existence. The author disclaims any responsibility if the name for some reason offends someone.)** It is used commonly as a painkiller, but it has side effects that may appear in some people and has not been approved for marketing and distribution. Usually the only people who use Patackaea are those who grow it privately, among other herbs, for their own medical treatment. Does Touko use any herbal remedies that you know of?"

"If she does, she hides them, which I don't think is likely. She did say she got some medicine for her headache from a girl at work."

"Mmm, that is a distinct possibility."

"What kind of side effects does Patackaea have?"

"Common ones are hallucinations, stomach pain, and dizziness. It varies from person to person. Some people are very tolerant to it and can take it without trouble, but others have severe side effects."

"How soon can she come home?"

"I want to make sure it is out of her system. As you can see, she's still sedated right now. She'll probably wake up this afternoon. You can take her home then."

"Thank you, doctor," Amon said. The doctor was startled that such a dark person was capable of such politeness.

"You're welcome," said the doctor uncertainly.

"Come, Robin," Amon said, and led her gently from the room.

………………………

Outside the doctor's office, a man approached Amon and Robin as they walked to his car.

"Excuse me, sir?" he said to Amon. Amon did not reply, but turned his head in the man's direction.

"Hello, I'm Mr. Llama, representing Random Insurance. Would you be interested in some quality life insurance at rates that are record low?"

"No."

"We also offer competitive rates on quality flood insurance."

"No thank you."

"Who is your current insurance agent?"

"That's none of your business."

"Fire insurance?"

"No."

"Ah, well, even if you have every type of insurance offered by every company, you still won't have this. It's a new offer from Random Insurance: food insurance."

Amon raised an eyebrow. Mr. Llama took this as an encouragement (with Amon, you have to take what you can get) and continued.

"If you food gets stolen, freezer burned, or otherwise destroyed or removed from your possession by unpreventable circumstance, you can be fully reimbursed. Accidental torching counts…" He looked at Amon expectantly and cheerfully.

"Let's go," Amon said to Robin, and in effect hauled her away while somehow managing to retain his macho, composed, dark image.

"Hey, ump, Amon!" Robin said as she was towed to his car.

"Amon…"Mr. Llama muttered to himself. Defeated for the moment, he turned away muttering to himself, before realizing that distracted muttering ruined his image of a friendly neighborhood insurance agent. Pasting a cheerful smile back on his face, he muttered through smiling teeth instead.

……………………

Later that night, when Amon was at home eating his usual dinner of takeout and Bepsi (official supplier of soda to the STN-J), his phone rang. Giving it at Sullen Glare That Obliterates All Electronic Devices Which Interrupt The Gourmet Meals Of Dark Sullen Individuals, he picked it up.

"Hello." He said darkly in his deep voice.

"Hello! This is Mr. Llama with Random Insurance. Would you like…"

"How did you get this number?" Amon interrupted. Even the untrained ear could hear irritation in the deep sullen voice.

"I…don't believe I'm at liberty to divulge my sources. As I was saying…"

At this point, Amon hung up.

He mused darkly. He, of course, kept an unlisted number. He could not in good conscience as a dark, ominous witch hunter do otherwise. All previous phone solicitors had either been severely frightened by verbal means or stalked with XL orbo guns, thus making his the Dreaded Phone Number among the soliciting community. Either this man had no connections among the soliciting community or he liked to take risks. Either way, it was time to find out a little more about Mr. Llama.

Amon went to his computer and began a little research. (Michael, had he been there, would likely have called his style amateur, but Michael, of course, was the world's best researcher. He got lots of practice looking up things for the STN-J members—random people named Abigail for example.)

Amon spent hours looking up every detail of Mr. Llama and Random Insurance. When he got done, he had a major headache. Usually, Amon was not one to deviate from the macho, tough-guy image and take medication for such a thing as a headache, he considered tonight an exception. He had some Stalking-With-Extra-Large-Orbo-Gun-ing to do before morning.

He entered his bathroom and opened a medicine cabinet, revealing one ancient prescription bottle and one bottle of just-in-case Kylenol.

He then, of course, did the usual clueless bachelor thing and tried to twist off the cap. When that proved futile, he studied the bottle carefully.

CHILDPROOF CAP, it said.

Childproof? Amon had never heard of such a thing. He again tried in vain to open it, but it resisted all his efforts. (He momentarily considered shooting it with an orbo gun.)

Then, in desperation, he examined the cap. It had various arrows going in twelve directions scattered across the top, along with the occasional TWIST and PUSH here and there. He twisted, pushed, and did a variety of other things, but still to no avail.

"Hacksaw…" he muttered darkly, perhaps thinking that if he mentioned such a destructive item that the bottle would open itself without protest. No such luck.

Half-frustrated, he decided to head for the ultra-secret place where he kept his XL orbo gun and take the bottle along, hoping for an inspiration. It was close enough to walk, so he strode darkly down the street, alternately examining and twisting at the bottle.

From half a block away, the blonde in a miniskirt and high heels could determine that Amon was a typical clueless bachelor trying to open a bottle of Kylenol. She approached him quickly, grabbed the bottle, and, as he watched, did a seemingly random combination of twisting, pushing, tapping, pulling, and shaking. The cap came off easily.

"There you go," she said cheerfully. "How about dinner?"

Amon, still confused, made a valiant attempt at a Sullen Glare, but it fell flat. He strode quickly away, not really wishing to go on a date with a girl who could open a bottle of Kylenol when he couldn't.

He popped two pills in his mouth and swallowed them without the aid of water. (He nearly choked himself doing so. Ah, the things we do for the sake of being macho.)

A few minutes later he walked up to a dark building. He went up to the door, revealed a hidden keypad, and (hunching over it so no one could observe the code) punched in a series of numbers. The door unlocked with a click.

Amon then went to a closet that, when opened, appeared to be a deserted janitor's closet, full of brooms, buckets, mops, and other such custodial tools. He removed the second brown-handled broom left of the red-handled one, revealing a section of the wall. He pressed on the exact spot and one side of the closet slid away, revealing a small cubby. He stepped into the cubby, turned on a hanging bulb, and pulled a cleverly hidden string causing a wall of the cubby to raise up. Stepping beyond that, he was in the Secret Room of Huge Dangerous Weaponry.

He turned on another hanging bulb, revealing a variety of huge and/or specialized orbo guns and machine guns. He quickly selected the most frightening one, the XL orbo gun (dramatic music).

Placing it in a black duffel especially for that purpose, he left quickly. Mr. Llama was going down.

……………………

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Okay, okay, yes, I know its been to long, don't shoot me. –hands out virtual homemade chocolate chip cookies to pacify everyone-- It's here now, so be happy. It took me forever but it's here. And to whoever asked, there probably will be more chapters of Amon and the Dreaded Friday, although I wasn't planning them originally.

Aisling Niamh: That would be 'raisin cakes of Moab'. But anyway. Patchouli. With swiss cheese. And grungy sneakers. Yeah. Tell Marcos I say Patchouli Has Ears. You're teaching him to speak Patchouliesque? I hope he can get it. It is after all very complicated and has no real rules. Kind of like English. I pity the poor people who have to learn English. It must be maddening. Learning Spanish is easier. I think. Although there is the thing where you have to change the verb depending on the subject. Like, you say 'hablo' when speaking of yourself, 'hablas' when speaking of someone else, and all that stuff. Although technically in class we haven't got to that yet, I looked it up.

May Patchouli be one with Thine Liver,

Hyde

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Carri: Well, I'm glad I don't have your brothers. My brother is annoying but he doesn't snoop in my room or anything. He plays the drums, so he's always drumming on something, not necessarily just his drums, but anything he can get his hands on. It gets pretty annoying. He got a drumset not too long ago, and when he plays it you can hear it all over the house. Brothers are the bane of the world's existence.

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Hunter-Robin: Yeah, I think anyone would freak out if being chased by the Easter Bunny. But something even worse, I heard this true story about a girl who hallucinated that there were spiders crawling into her eyes and she was so hysterical she ripped her own eyes out. –shudderes— I think Touko got lucky.

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St Earns: Yeah, writing the SERS was a break for me from writing the same old funny stuff all the time. Sometimes, I'm tempted to write something serious, but its all been done. And done three times. Sometime after I see more than just the first five or so episodes of Noir, I want to write a Noir fic. Probably a funny one. Speaking of Noir, it ties with WHR as my favorite too.

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CrazyTomboy: That's okay, forget about the link, I found it. But a link is not that hard. Just type the address and it should turn blue, like this: See, now if you click on it it should take you to and if it doesn't you can copy it on the address bar thing at the top of the internet thing, if that's clear. :)

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I still never thought of whatever I was going to ask. Oh well. Oh, guess what? I'm now a member of Harry's. Completely switching the subject, have you ever watch the shot put on the Olympics? Well, it is beyond me why they find it necessary to spin in circles before throwing it. They go turn turn turn EYAHHHHH! Whatever. I wonder if they have slingshot competitions in the Olympics. If they don't they should. I don't know why, just because. Wow do I feel random today.

May Patchouli grace your sweaty socks,

Hyde


	15. which is short

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Disclaimer: I do not own anything in here. Deal with it. If you can't, there are a variety of places from which you can see help.

Hyde A/N: Sorry, I've been so dang busy this should have been started long ago…--is distressed— Well, I won't take forever talking at the beginning because I highly doubt you read this fic just for the illustrious author's notes. :)

…………………

Amon, his headache slightly appeased, sat on a bench protectively keeping the duffel containing the XL orbo gun close by. With some sort of random electronic, high-tech, handheld gadget he looked up the address of Mr. Llama, having forgotten it after having looked it up on his computer earlier.

Ah ha. He picked up the duffel, clutched it protectively (yet macho-ly) at his side, and strode off. He considered going back for his macho black Audi, but decided that if someone got a glimpse he would be too easy to track down. Not everyone, after all, has a macho black Audi, and he was quite sure that at some point he had been mandatorily required to impart to the government the make and description of his car. Governments had a way of inquiring such stupid things. Amon was not on good terms with governments. Governments don't tend to be on good terms with macho, dark, ominous individuals.

As he strolled down the sidewalk, thinking darkly of the Government, he suddenly heard behind him a "yip-yip-yip-yip-yip!" Turning, he observed a small dog belonging to a little old lady. Apparently the dog had severe problems with men on Amon's type. Amon narrowed his eyes and fixed the dog with a particularly strong and venomous Sullen Glare That Cows Immediately All Small Dogs Who Have Irrational Problems With Dark Ominous Individuals.

The dog immediately retreated, whimpering. The old lady, however, did not. She was of the strict opinion that society was much better off without persons of Amon's particular type. She quickly wielded a large mauve umbrella and began beating Amon about the head and shoulders. Amon ducked, flinched, and attempted to protect his duffel. Finally, he gave up protecting his duffel; it was hurting his witch-hunter style. His witch hunting instincts then took over and he grabbed the umbrella in an iron grip, rendering the old lady impotent. He then set off.

Bad idea. The old lady chased him. She managed to get in one final blow before Amon outran her. He ducked in and out of numerous alleys and buildings and finally lost her.

Amon clutched the duffel to his side. That was a close one.

He now proceeded to the residence of Mr. Llama. Upon approaching the house, he pulled a dark mask over his face. Hiding behind the bushes, he took out the XL orbo gun. It gleamed with lethal beauty. He then checked the many pockets of the Bad Black Coat to be sure that he had everything he needed.

Amon crept up to the back door of the house. He unfolded a piece of paper and double-checked a layout of Mr. Llama's house that he had printed off. Having reassured himself that he would not walk into a wall unsuspecting, he attached a small electronic device to Mr. Llama's doorknob. With a muffled click, the door unlocked. Amon then pulled out a small bottle of oil and greased the hinges of the door (he thinks of everything, doesn't he). The door slid open silently, and Amon entered unhindered.

After stepping over the threshold, Amon made an electronic scan to detect security systems. The electronic scanner informed him that the doors and windows would set off an alarm if broken into. Amon, by unlocking the door, had avoided this.

Satisfied there were no other means of intruder alert, Amon instituted his final measure of preparation: donning night-vision goggles. Ready, he proceeded, keeping an eye on the handheld device in his hand.

Unfortunately, the electronic security systems scanner had neglected to inform him of one minor detail: a cat. As Amon walked into the living room he felt something warm and furry land on his head. He impatiently knocked it off, but unfortunately his night-vision goggles went with it.

Muttering an indistinct curse, he dropped to the floor and began searching. Bump. He knocked into a chair. He froze, listening. No sound. He kept feeling the floor. Having no luck, he stood up for a moment and tried to orient himself. As he did, he was startled by something attacking his leg. It yowled and clawed its way higher. Amon desperately whacked at it but the cat was stuck tight. Then, he stepped on something. His ankle went sideways and he fell with a whump to the floor. This, however, dislodged the cat.

Amon lay there for a moment, trying to find out if he was discovered. He heard no movement in the house. He became suddenly aware of something causing an uncomfortable feeling of pain in his left thigh. He rolled off of it and picked it up. His night-vision goggles.

He put them back on quickly and tried to locate the cat. It was nowhere in sight. Cautiously now, he proceeded.

Soon, he arrived at the door to Mr. Llama's bedroom. When the moment was right, he kicked the door.

Unfortunately, Mr. Llama had rather sturdy doors in his house. Amon retreated, nursing his foot. Even macho witch hunters are not impervious to sturdy doors when they impede the kicking feet of said witch hunters. He gave the door a Sullen Glare Which Reduces To Kindling All Doors That Impede The Feet of Dark Ominous Individuals. He then blasted the lock with the XL orbo gun.

He kicked the charred door open and burst into the room with a bang.

It was empty. Mr. Llama wasn't home.

Any other would have felt like an idiot, but Amon's brain did not stand for such emotions. He pumped Mr. Llama's pillow full of orbo, in warning. Snarling, he quickly exited the house, shooting random threatening shots into random walls.

……………………

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Short chapter, but I need to get this posted. Too busy and too procrastinative lately. Must…please…fans…must…update…

St Earns: I never thought about Robin getting fire insurance either. I'm sure her rates are very high, unless she conceals the fact that she's a fire-throwing witch.

Yes, heavy orbo artillery, very fun. –evil smile—

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CrazyTomboy: Yes, linking is something even the least skilled of computer users can do. Oh shoot, forgot to read the next chapter of In Which Touko Has a Sugar High. –slaps hand on forehead— Sheesh. Well, add to my list of things to do today…

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Hunter-Robin: We all feel sorry for Amon when he must run around with a headache and have some blonde have to open it up for him. We just torture him, don't we.

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Carri: Yes, he got a drum set. He's not particularly good because he hasn't been playing drum set for too awful long, but he practices almost every day. Not at midnight, thank goodness.

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Okay, must go get this posted…

May your walls never randomly decide to go on a chicken hunt,

Hyde


	16. The Great Window Insurance Caper

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in here. If I did, I would pay someone else to do this. :)

**Hyde A/N: All may rejoice, for Hyde has finally updated this! You see, my computer has had internet problems (and still has them) so Ais is updating this for me, like the kind friend she is. Hopefully, you still remember what's going on...I'm not sure I do. :)**

_Mr. Llama hovered in front of his face, waving papers._

"_What are those?"_

"_Har har har!" Mr. Llama laughed. "This is the deed to everything you own."_

"_Even..."_

"_Yes, even...the XL orbo gun!"_

"_How did you find out about that? You weren't supposed to know..."_

"_I have my sources." Mr. Llama's evil smile hovered unrealistically in front of his face._

"NOOOOOOOO!" Amon cried out, waking himself up. He sat up straight in bed, his witch hunter instincts vibrating. He got up and cleaned his orbo gun, soothing himself. He wished he had Robin's powers of flame. Things would be so much simpler. He fell back to sleep, clutching the orbo gun tightly.

_His orbo gun fell into the chasm. Mr. Llama was getting away. He ran after him, but his legs were so slow. He stumbled, and his macho black coat fell into the chasm too. When he got up, Mr. Llama was gone._

"_No..." he muttered._

_Then Robin was there. He could see the flame in her eyes. She was going to send him up in flames._

"_No, Robin, I didn't mean...its not like that..." he protested, not even sure what he was talking about._

"_Evil..." she said in her soft voice. "Evil must be eliminated."_

_He knew, somehow, that she had been taken over by Mr. Llama and sent to destroy him._

"_Robin...he doesn't...this isn't..." he found himself tripping over his tongue, unable to complete the sentence that would bring her to her senses. He reached into his pocket for his orbo gun. But the orbo gun and his coat were gone. He felt exposed and helpless without the volumes of his coat to hide in, without an orbo gun at his side to dispose of any danger._

_Flames gathered in front of her. He felt fear. Suddenly, the reassuring coldness of an orbo gun in his hand. He brought it up, took aim at her figure dimmed by the wall of fire..._

Bam!

Amon woke suddenly. His orbo gun was in his hand and there was a smoking hole in the wall opposite his bed.

"Doujima. Come with me."

_Oh, no, not again!_ She thought. It always meant trouble when Amon wanted her along.

"What now, Amon?" she asked him.

"I have a top-secret assignment for you. I want you to go to the office of a company called Random Insurance. Ask to speak with Mr. Llama. Get pictures of everything and record every conversation, no matter what. Remember, top secret. You can't tell anyone, not even the others."

"Aw, come on Amon! Why can't I tell the others?"

"You can't."

"Whatever, Amon." She sighed in exasperation, tired of arguing the point with him every time. Why did he always have to pick on her?

Mr. Llama happily typed away at his computer, elevating the insurance rates of every client possible for every even vaguely legitimate reason. It was the joy of his life, the thing he was dedicated to: finding devious new ways to jack up insurance prices for any reason whatsoever. As part of that, he tried to convince people to buy useless insurance policies.

"Ah ha!" he said triumphantly. He had finally finished and perfected his Doorknob Insurance Plan, chock full of loopholes so that the company would never have to pay a dime. Now, to find someone to pick on, someone to stalk (not illegally, of course) until he finally convinced them to buy doorknob insurance.

His secretary stuck her head in, interrupting his train of thought.

"A Miss Chow to see you, sir."

"Thank you, Miss Smarklepuss. By the way, I don't suppose you'd be interested in going out for some tofu later?"

"Oh," she said, flattered. "Well, I..." She turned pink (or perhaps more of a magenta).

"Over lunch break," he said.

"Mmm-hmm," she smiled, shyly. She left his office, smoothing her blonde-with-a-few-gray-hairs and giggling.

"Mr. Llama will see you now..." she said to Doujima, and flushed magenta-orange. She giggled and patted her hair again. Doujima rolled her eyes.

"Hello, Miss Chow," said Mr. Llama pleasantly. "Do sit down."

"Thank you," said the slim blonde, taking a leather chair designed to inspire the client's confidence in Mr. Llama. "I was _highly_ recommended to you by a friend. He said that Random Insurance was the best place to get every kind of insurance you need, and he said a friend of his recommended you quite highly for the type of insurance I'm looking for. He said you specialize in somewhat...out of the ordinary insurance plans. My friend wants..."

"So you're representing someone else?"

"Oh, yes, did I not tell you? I am here for a good friend of mine who is quite paranoid about things. Wants insurance for _everything_. She's so paranoid she rarely conducts business in person. She was dissatisfied with the prices of her former insurance company."

"Well, I can assure you Random has the best prices for every kind of insurance."

"Yes."

"Well, what did you have in mind, Miss Chow?" Mr. Llama could smell the money. Unconsciously, he leaned forward in greedy anticipation.

"Well, my friend has been worried about her, ah, windows of late. I was wondering..."

"Why of course!" said Mr. Llama ecstatically, typing eagerly on a computer that was painted a specific shade of cream to inspire the client's trust. "I have just what you need." He had long ago invented window insurance. "Shall I give you the forms?"

"That would be fine," said Doujima, surreptitiously snapping pictures with a miniature camera.

"I'll have to go get them from my secretary. Pardon me..." He left.

Doujima immediately jumped up and began snapping lots and lots of pictures of everything. His desk, the papers on it, the diplomas and awards on his walls, everything. When he came back in, she was sitting down as though nothing had happened.

"Thank you, Mr. Llama," she said.

"You're quite welcome, Miss Chow," said Mr. Llama, and shook her hand in a way that was scientifically designed to insinuate trustworthiness.

**Hyde A/N: I'm not going to respond to reviews because those were a long time ago and because I'm lazy. And I never have any time any more. Yeah.**

**May the tree outside your window never engage in a conversation in rapid Spanish with the grass at midnight,**

**--Hyde**

**Ais sayeth: Glee! It actually kept the bold/italics this time! --dances around in circle with coffeepot-- Eh. Eight cups of coffee.**


	17. The Times Doth Be Rope For Change!

**Disclaimer: I own nothing in here. Yep.**

**Hyde A/N: Well, I'm not sure exactly where this chapter is going to go. Like, I have no idea where the plot it going in here. Perhaps Touko shall return. Touko is fun to write. I'm getting bored with the current plot. It seems somehow mindless.**

**Audience: --stares blankly—**

**Okay, maybe mindless isn't the right word. But it's something. I don't know what. I think I'll stop rambling randomly and start writing, if that's okay with everyone.**

**Audience: --sighs with relief—**

………………

In the backseat of Amon's car, Touko jabbered randomly, still feeling the effects of the sedation she had recently emerged from. **(Hyde A/N: If you recall from however many chapters back, she got stoned on some random herbal remedy.)**

"Methinks the time be ripe for changes," she said. Amon and Robin in the front seat did not respond. Robin, because she didn't feel conversational and Amon because he never was conversational.

"Mmm-hmm," she agreed with herself. "Methinks it be the time in which I must make a change."

Robin looked at Amon as if to say, what do we do about her? Amon stared straight ahead, as if to give the impression that he had no intention of doing anything whatsoever about Touko. Robin gave an inaudible sigh and let her mind wander.

"The time doth be rope, I meaneth, ripe for change."

Robin had a thought that Touko sounded somewhat akin to a broken record. Amon had a thought that he'd rather be on Mars that in this car. This led to thoughts of the effects of increased gravity on orbo gun performance. Amon was now lost to the world.

"It is the time for change. I changeth. Thou changest."

Robin wondered how Touko had arrived at this tangent. Amon wondered how an orbo gun would perform at low gravity.

"Change thou me, and I shalt be changed. I runneth not in fright of change."

Robin wished she had duct tape. Amon imagined the immense possibilities of low gravity witch-hunts.

"Doth the moose in truth run from change? Nay, change and the moose doth walk hand in hand. Avast!"

Avast? Robin thought. Underwater orbo gun? Amon thought.

Finally, they arrived at Robin and Touko's apartment. Robin took Touko by the arm and led her out of the car.

"Goodbye, Robin," said Amon.

"Goodbye," said Robin.

"Dost thou wish a cookie?" said Touko.

………………

Amon, upon returning to his house, checked his mailbox. Surprisingly, there was a letter from Abigail, the prophet of the Omnipotent Mother Goddess.

The message scrawled on the slip of paper was startlingly clear and straightforward. Amon was so startled, he raised one eyebrow and rubbed his jaw.

It read:

The llama that stalks you has eloped with his secretary. Have a nice day. –Abigail

………………

"Here you go, Amon, photos, audiotapes, everything." Doujima dropped a pile of items in his lap.

He dropped them back into her arms. "I don't need them anymore."

"YOU DON'T NEED THEM ANYMORE?"

"He eloped with his secretary."

"Oh." Doujima's face registered a momentary look of disgust. Then she remembered that Amon had made her do a bunch of work for nothing.

"I HATE YOU AMON!!!!!" Doujima screamed.

He turned his back on her, seeming deaf.

"I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!"

He made no response.

"YOU STUPID MAN!" She uttered the last word with unspeakable disgust and sarcasm. The she stomped out.

At his computer, even Michael with his loud music heard her coming.

"Uh oh, blond on the warpath," he whispered to Sakaki.

It earned him a hard whack with a purse and an audiotape in the head.

"AUGHHHHHHH!" Doujima screamed, and she slammed the door behind her as she exited.

"Ouch." Sakaki said.

………………

As Amon was walking up to his apartment that night, a girl wearing large amounts of denim and blue hair stopped him on the sidewalk.

"It's nice to be among the MAGNOLIAS again," she said.

Amon looked at her strangely.

"The birds do smile kindly upon those whose FACES are cheerful," she said, as though he was completely missing something quite obvious.

It wasn't obvious, but he was definitely missing something. He gave her a Sullen Glare That Drives Away All Nut Cases With Bright Blue Hair Wearing Much Out-of-Style Denim.

"The steak is GOOD this time of year," she said, starting to seem exasperated.

Amon pushed her aside and stalked up the sidewalk to his apartment, where he locked himself in. He watched from his window and she paced agitatedly about for a while, and then wandered away.

………………

Ha. I hath done away with Mr. Llama. I got bored with him. But he has served his purpose. Oh, Ais, notice I included the line about the magnolias. It was my inspiration for the new nuisance. I couldn't remember the other line, or I would have put that one in there too. Anyway.

**May all your turkeys have second cousins in the limousine business named "Ron",**

**--Hyde **

**Ais: I apologize for the updating delay, first I had internet trouble, then the site was read-only, then there was Thanksgiving...I have very interesting relatives, mind you... Well, at least I got it up, you know. :D**


	18. Cheese, my friends, cheese

Disclaimer: I own not anything which taketh up abode in this chapter.

Hyde A/N: This new nuisance promises to be fun. Ais, if you can remember the other line besides the magnolia line, tell me okay? Oh, before I forget…

Crazy Tomboy: I know EXACTLY what you mean about Pretty Pretty Princess. Somewhere upstairs in the depths of a closet a copy of it resides. I have played it before. As I recall, it is quite pink. And purple. And blue. And full of frighteningly cute plastic jewelry. You poor thing.

………………

Sakaki leaned back in his chair and popped a cheeto into his mouth.

"I hash a dsheam lash nisht," he said, with his mouth full.

"Oh, you _did_…" Michael replied without interest.

"What did he say?" Doujima asked him. She could not decipher anything Sakaki said with his mouth full. Michael was fluent, having had more practice.

"He said he had a dream last night."

"Oh."

Sakaki gulped down his mouthful of cheetos hurriedly and said, "But it was a really weird one."

"Uh-huh." Michael said.

"No, really, there was this oatmeal everywhere and then it turned into waffle fries."

"Waffle fries? I love waffle fries," said Michael.

"Oatmeal…" murmured Doujima thoughtfully.

"I just don't know what it means," said Sakaki.

"I don't suppose you have any waffle fries on you, Doujima?"

"No, Michael. I'm not in the habit of carrying greasy food around in my purse." She whacked him over the head, and left.

"She must, however, be in the habit of carrying bricks in her purse," Sakaki commented when she was gone.

…………………

Michael was appeasing his sudden craving for waffle fries at lunch that day when he saw Amon. He was just going to go up and say hi when Amon was approached by a girl wearing much denim and having blue hair. Intrigued, Michael ducked behind a nearby tree and watched.

"How PLEASANT is the breeze this morning," she said. Amon startled, whirled around and instinctively placed an orbo gun to her head. (Then he remembered that orbo guns weren't allowed in public, so he put it away.)

"I saw DUCKS upon the pond this morning," she continued, acting like she was waiting for an answer.

"I don't know who you are," said Amon, "but you'd better leave me ALONE." He flashed his orbo gun in a sinister manner.

Her face lit up. "Oh dear, it's THREE O'CLOCK," she said. "I must be GOING." She smiled at Amon as though she has just told him some joyous secret. Michael looked at his watch. It wasn't three o'clock. It was only twelve fifteen.

She walked away. Amon looked about suspiciously as though afraid that a new girl wearing nothing but wool and having pink hair would suddenly pounce upon him. He left the area furtively.

Michael emerged from the tree and ate his waffle fries thoughtfully on his way back to the STN-J.

………………

Robin stared soulfully out the window of Amon's car. She tried not to think about Touko. She wished she could block last night out of her memory permanently. There had been a slight incident involving cookies and the coffeemaker. Robin had spent a great deal of last night scrubbing the floor. She did not want to think about it.

To distract herself, she turned and looked at Amon. Amazing how easily Touko fled from her mind, when she contemplated Amon. Then, she remembered that Amon and Touko had a relationship, rendering her effort null. She turned back to the window.

His rolled-down window let in a breeze that ruffled Amon's hair in a macho way. When Robin turned her head his way again, she got the full effect of a perfect profile of Amon with his hair blowing in a macho way. Her heart stopped without consulting her. Her breath jerked in without her conscious consent. She was about to jerk her head away from the breathtaking sight when she saw a strange sight out Amon's window. A girl. With blue hair.

Amon noticed her too. Unfortunately, they were stopped at a red light and he could not merely accelerate away from her.

"Hi," she said. "Is it THREE O'CLOCK yet?"

"Uh, Amon," Robin said softly.

"Could you tell me where the nearest STOP SIGN is?"

Just then, the light turned green. The Macho Black Audi broke a world record for 0 to 60 miles per hour in the shortest amount of time.

"Who was that, Amon?" Robin said. She looked slightly confused.

"I don't know," said Amon darkly. "I don't know her."

"She seemed to know you," Robin ventured softly.

"Maybe she thinks she does," said Amon shortly, and glared a Sullen Glare Calculated To Stop All Uncomfortable Conversations And Melt The Windshields Of Macho Black Audis In The Process. Robin accordingly fell silent.

………………

"Do you suppose the government would let us spend their money on waffle fries?" Michael asked the general populace.

"What?" said Karasuma, looking up from a file.

"I wonder if the government has a credit card number," Michael said.

"Why ever would you want to know that?"

"Waffle fries," Michael explained.

"You sound like Sakaki. Always talking about food."

"Huh?" said Sakaki, breaking away from a very pleasant daydream at the sound of his name.

"Nothing," said Karasuma, and fixed him and his ever-present cheetos with a disapproving glare.

Just then, Doujima stormed in. "I hate men!" she yelled vehemently.

"Why?" Sakaki asked. (not the smartest thing to do)

"YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY?" Doujima bellowed into his face.

"N-not really," said Sakaki.

"I'll tell you why…THEY STINK!" Doujima and Sakaki were now nose to nose, unfortunately for Sakaki. He could smell her breath. It smelled like martini.

"Your breath smells like a martini," he said.

"AGH!" Doujima yelled. Sakaki flinched, blanched, and looked as penitent as possible. "Why oh why didn't I take that job at the salon doing manicures?" she sighed. "I'm going to the ladies room," she announced, and huffed off.

Karasuma shook her head. "Men," she said.

"What?" said Sakaki.

"Hey Sakaki," said Michael.

"Huh?"

"Keep your mouth shut."

"Okay." Sakaki stuffed his mouth with cheetos.

………………

Hyde A/N: Well, another day, another chapter. Unfortunately, the computer is being particularly uncooperative today (as if it is ever cooperative in the first place.) Arg. I long for the days when the computer would actually work on a daily basis, and not just whenever it's in the mood.

May large persons with XXXXXXL orbo guns hold all the world's computers at gunpoint until they agree to cooperate with mankind,

Hyde

-------------------

Ais!note--- My apologies for the long (times 90) wait. Hyde's computer and Internet are perpetually uncooperative so I, as you might know, post all her stuff for her. My laptop Luisne, however, had a nervous breakdown and was in the hospital for a week and a half. It took much repressed-trauma therapy to recover her memories. (In other words, for those not yet fluent in Aisish,it crashed)I'm just now getting my files reorganized. Hope to have a new fic chapter of mine up sometime soon!

Thanks for your patience!

--Aisling Niamh


	19. PocaPola and Blue Hair

**Disclaimer: I claim no responsibility whatsoever. I don't own anything, including WHR. There you go.**

**Hyde A/N: Hrm. I just realized there's nothing to say. Oh well. Enjoy.**

Amon was in his apartment watching sports. He was bored out of his mind. It happened to be a basketball game. Amon knew nothing whatsoever about basketball. He was drinking Bepsi.

Sakaki was watching sports too. In his apartment. It happened to be the same basketball game that was boring Amon out of his skull. Sakaki, being a moderate basketball fan, however, was not bored.

"That was not a foul!" cried the announcer.

"That was not a foul!" cried Sakaki.

"What's a foul?" Amon thought.

"That ref has got to be blind," the announcer said, as though he could not believe what he was seeing.

"The ref has got to be blind," said Sakaki, as though he could not believe what he was seeing.

"What's a ref?" Amon thought.

"Oh, almost!" said the announcer, as a two-point shot bounced off the rim.

"So close!" said Sakaki.

"The point must be to get the ball through the hoop," thought Amon.

Then, there was a knock on Amon's door. Ready to do anything but watch basketball, he went and answered it.

As soon as Amon opened the door, he wished he hadn't.

"What nice PREMISES you have!" said the girl with blue hair.

Amon shut the door.

"I have CANDY," said the girl.

Amon ignored her.

"There are DUCKS in your flowerbed," she added.

Amon pulled out his orbo gun.

He opened the door, stuck the orbo gun in her face, and said, "Leave."

He should have known not to say anything.

"Okay," she said and walked right in. Amon was left standing there, pointing his orbo gun at a rhododendron bush across the way. Feeling stupid, he turned around.

The girl had opened his refrigerator and was examining it.

"Bepsi, beer, old take-out, more Bepsi, good grief…shut the door."

The last was directed toward Amon. He obeyed without thinking, and then, realizing what he had done, would have slapped his hand on his forehead in disgust, were he the type to do so.

"Do you have any BUGS around here?"

Amon stared at her, not sure what to make of this.

"FLIES, maybe?"

More silence from Amon.

She took this as an affirmation. "Okay, I'll see you." She grabbed a can of Bepsi from his refrigerator, opened it, chugged the whole thing all at once, tossed it in a nearby, overflowing trash can, and left the same way she had entered.

Amon realized his orbo gun was still in his hand. He quickly stuck it back into his coat. Outside in the hall, he heard a loud belch. He almost flinched. The equivalent of a heart attack in a normal person.

………………

Amon realized the moment he walked in the door of the STN-J headquarters the next morning that he was in for another absurd day. Michael was barely visible behind a mountain of waffle fries, which he was devouring.

"Where did you get all those waffle fries?" Robin asked.

"Mmmphruphugerhmp."

Before Robin could ask for a translation, Doujima stormed in.

"Doujima!" said Sakaki, "You're here before noon!"

She fixed him with a truly evil glare.

"I have a HUGE headache, the pizza guy woke me up at SIX IN THE MORNING thinking I had ordered an extra large extra cheese, I COULDN'T get back to sleep, and when I THOUGHT I was driving to the beauty parlor to get a manicure, I ACCIDENTALLY drove here, and SHE," Doujima pointed an accusing finger at Karasuma, who had entered behind her, "saw me and DRAGGED me in here before I could escape!"

"Did you bring waffle fries?" Michael asked.

Howling with rage, Doujima let fly with her purse and scattered Michael's waffle fries all over the floor.

"NOOOOOO!" Michael cried. "You owe me money for this! Lots of money!"

"Oh really…." Doujima sneered.

Here, Robin intervened.

"It's okay Doujima," she said. "Come on. Let's go to Harry's and get you a cappuccino."

"We've got a lot of work to do," Amon said.

"When don't we, Amon?" Karasuma asked. "Let them go."

Amon muttered to himself. With Michael collapsed on the floor, weeping for his lost waffle fries, things were not looking pleasant. He stalked off to sooth his nerves by tracking down a nice witch or two.

………………

Amon flattened himself against the building. He checked his orbo gun. It seemed in working condition. He cocked it, and readied himself to spring out and hold the witch at gunpoint.

"How ADORABLE," said a voice behind him. He whirled around instinctively and pointed his gun at the voice.

He found himself staring straight into the green eyes of the girl with the blue hair. Amon's orbo gun was about two inches from the tip of her nose, but it didn't faze her.

"Leave. Me. Alone." Amon said, giving her a Sullen Glare Which Is Intended To Fry The Eyebrows of Girls With Blue Hair That Show Up At Inopportune Moments And Ruin The Therapeutic Witch Hunts Of Dark Ominous Personages.

Instead of walking away (as Amon had hoped she would), she dug into her pocket and came up with a piece of paper and a pencil that had seen much better days. In fact, it looked like it had been living in her pocket for the last fifty years. She scribbled something on it and stuck it out toward Amon. He automatically took it. Too late, he realized that impassive persons do not accept notes from people at random. Before he could decide what to do, she turned around and left.

Amon suddenly realized that his arm was still up and he was now pointing his gun at a lamppost across the way. He lowered it. He looked at the note. It said: I'll find you at five. Make sure you're alone.

He flipped it over and looked at the back. It was a receipt for "Bob's House of Kosher Sushi." Hmm.

………………

"Waddya want?" asked the man behind the counter.

"Beer," said Amon.

"We don't serve beer."

"Bepsi,"

"We have a contract with Poca-Pola, not Bepsi."

"Poca-Pola, then.'

"We're out."

"Anything sanitary."

"That's our specialty." The man turned and poured Amon something clear out of an unmarked dispenser.

"Have you seen a girl with blue hair around here lately?" Amon asked the man.

"You want any sushi?" the man asked Amon.

Somewhat taken aback (though of course he would never show it) Amon just stared at him.

"You're at Bob's House of Kosher Sushi. So you want any sushi?"

"Do you have anything else?"

"No."

Amon, realizing he was off track tried again.

"The girl with blue hair, have you seen her?"

"Wears nothing but denim?"

"Yes, that's her."

"Sure, she's in here all the time."

"Know anything about her?"

"You gonna drink that?" The man gestured towards Amon's glass of clear something.

This time, Amon did not allow himself to be sidetracked.

"Know anything about her?"

"Not much. She's really weird."

Amon restrained the urge to stick his orbo gun up the man's nose.

"Does she drive a car?"

"Not that I've seen. You gonna drink that or not?"

"Know her name?"

"Um, no, something European I think. If you're not going to drink that I'll pour it out. But you still have to pay me for it."

"Did she ever say anything to you?"

"Say, what's it to you, huh? Are you government or something? Is she evading taxes?"

Hmm, hostility. A perfect excuse. Amon glanced both ways. The only other customer looked like he'd had too many tequilas. With the ease and speed of years of practice, Amon drew his orbo gun and pointed it right between the man's eyes.

"Let's just say I'm interested."

"Oh, erm, ah, let's see…" the man began to sweat profusely, which didn't help the smell of the place any. Amon made a mental note to go vomit in the men's room later. Sweaty sushi is enough to sicken even Amon.

"She, ah, said something about…no, she asked directions to…one of the parks around here, uh, the one out by McPonald's."

Amon dropped payment for the drink, (small tip included) and left abruptly.

………………

**This chapter was fun. I think I like this new nuisance. She's so random. Better than Mr. Llama. Hmm. I don't feel very talkative right now, so I guess I'll see y'all later.**

**May great mounds of spaghetti never bury your computer alive,**

**Hyde**


	20. Happy Birthday, AAAN!

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. You already know that. Moving on.**

**Hyde A/N: Chapter 20, a momentous occasion! I shall now sing happy birthday to Amon Acquires a Nuisance!**

**Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear AmonAcquiresaNuisance! Happy Birthday to youuuuuuuu! –throws virtual confetti-**

**Okay, you can take your fingers out of your ears now.**

…………………

Amon surveyed his stash of XL orbo guns and other such powerful and frightening weaponry. Idly, he picked up a specially designed orbo machine gun. He examined it in minute detail. His eyes picked up a small fragment of dirt on the barrel. Hastily, he used the sleeve of his coat to wipe it away.

Then, his sensitive witch hunter hearing detected a noise. He froze in place. Then he relaxed a little. He had specially designed the Secret Room of Huge Dangerous Weaponry to be impossible to get into to.

Then, the impossible happened. The wall of the room slid up. Amon trained a souped-up orbo handgun on the figure.

As the figure stepped forward, the dim light from the hanging bulb revealed…the girl with the blue hair.

"Clever," she said. Apparently the look Amon gave her was questioning, for she said, "It's five o'clock, isn't it?"

Amon then remembered the crumpled note she had given him.

"Just to let you know, anyone with a large amount of expertise in such things could break your security code quite easily. I did."

Amon just stared at her. He still held the handgun, trained at her denim-clad midsection.

"Get. Out." he finally said.

"What?"

In one smooth, oft-rehearsed move, he put on a gas mask and pushed the "Emergency Intruder Immobilization" button. There was a hissing as gas was released into the room. Amon waited until the girl with blue hair was sufficiently asleep before opening a ventilator.

Slinging her over his shoulder, he left the Secret Room of Huge Dangerous Weaponry and started to his car. As he was depositing her in the backseat, he heard a loud yipping bark behind him.

He turned around to behold a little old lady with a little yippy dog carrying a mauve umbrella. There was a look of horror and disgust on her face.

"She…urm…fell asleep," he tried to explain.

The old lady whacked him over the head with her mauve umbrella once anyway, figuring that anyone with such long black hair had to deserve it in some way.

………………

Robin, in the apartment she shared with Touko, was having problems of her own.

"Come thou, Robin, with me to this fine literary discussion of the Elizabethan time period. Thou shalt love it indeed. I assureth thee!"

"No, thank you," Robin said softly.

"But thou hast looked so depressed of late. This indeed shall cheer thy heart and warm thy soul!"

"No, thank you," Robin said softly.

"Please?"

"No, thank you."

"I beg thee on bended knee!"

"No, thank you."

Just then, the doorbell rang.

"I shall get it!" Touko chimed.

When she opened the door, she was confronted by the confusing sight of Amon with a large, bulky, heavy, awkward sack over his shoulder.

"Greetings be unto thee, Amon."

Without answering her, he stepped in the door.

"Do you have a closet that locks?" he asked Robin.

"Um, yes. In the hall."

He lowered the sack to the floor and it slumped partially off its burden, revealing…a girl with blue hair?

Touko squealed loudly. "The out-of-style denim! It hurteth mine eyes!"

"Is she…" Robin started, but couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence in any manner.

"She's asleep," he said.

He slung her over his shoulder and walked down the hall to the closet. He deposited her inside and closed and locked the door.

"Don't let her out," he said. Then he was gone.

Touko leaped for the phone.

"Hello, Mandy? This be Touko. Thou shalt never believe this. Mine boyfriend, of whom I hath spoken to thee, hath locked a girl who hath blue hair in my closet…Yes, and she was wearing _out of date denim_!"

Robin left. She had a lot of things to sort out in her mind.

…………………

Not knowing where else to go, Robin went to Harry's. Karasuma and Doujima were there.

"…and then I said, 'Pink hair is SO un-purple.'" Doujima was saying. She broke off as she saw Robin enter.

"Robin! I heard Amon locked some girl with blue hair in your closet!"

Robin looked faintly surprised. "How did you know?"

"Word gets around," Karasuma said. Robin gave a faint nod.

"He must be a lunatic," said Doujima. "Sane people don't just walk around locking nut cases with blue hair in their co-workers' closets."

"Indisputably," Karasuma agreed.

"You shouldn't be subjected to that kind of thing," Doujima said to Robin. "If I were you, I would go whack him over the head with a mauve umbrella."

"Yep," Karasuma agreed.

"In fact, even though I'm not you, I may do it anyway."

"That's okay," said Robin hastily, always the pacifist.

Doujima ignored her protest. "Come on, Miho, lets see if Michael can locate him." The two set off for the STN-J headquarters. Robin trailed behind, hoping to prevent bloodshed.

………………

Amon was sitting on a random street corner stalking a random witch when Doujima, followed by Karasuma, Robin, and Sakaki (who was bored and decided to come along) found him.

Doujima gripped her extremely fashionable pink purse tightly in her hand. Her knuckles whitened.

Amon's witch-hunting sixth sense warned him just in time (it was accustomed to dealing with witches, not enraged blondes with deadly pink purses).

Robin gave a soft gasp as the purse just missed Amon's macho dark hair.

"Whack him, Doujima!" Karasuma cheered from the sidelines.

"Amon! Watch out for that left hook!" Sakaki cried in warning.

"Um, Doujima…" said Robin uncertainly. When her soft voice proved unsuccessful at gaining Doujima's attention (her entire being was focused on pounding Amon's dark macho face into the ground), she turned to Karasuma.

"Miho, you should stop them."

"Why? This is awesome!"

Finally, Amon managed to catch hold of Doujima's wrist. He lifted it up in the air, suspending her on her toes.

"Not fair!" Karasuma cried.

"I wish I could've done that," said Sakaki musingly.

"Amon, you take that blue-haired girl out of Robin's closet right now!" Doujima yelled.

Random passers-by turned and stared. No one noticed except for Robin, who eased back into the shadows and tried to disassociate herself from her colleagues.

"Miho! Assistance please!" Doujima said.

"Right," said Karasuma. She grabbed Amon by one arm and propelled him to her car nearby. The slight widening of his eyes showed Amon's extreme distress.

Karasuma shoved Amon and Doujima (whom he was still holding prisoner) into the backseat. Sakaki joined them and Robin slid inconspicuously into the front seat.

"Where are we going?" Amon asked darkly, while giving Karasuma's doors Sullen Glares That Cause All Doors Which Hold Macho Dark Witch Hunters Unwillingly Captive To Cease To Exist.

No one answered him. Anyone less macho would have felt extremely stupid in the uncomfortable silence that followed.

"You can let go of me now," Doujima broke the silence.

…………………

"She is not here," Touko explained to Karasuma.

"I told you not to let her out," Amon muttered darkly.

"We hath had a nice cup of tea," Touko added.

"A cup of tea?" Amon wondered darkly.

"Well, I guess our work here is done," Doujima said. She and Karasuma left, followed by Sakaki who kept saying, "I don't get it," over and over because he had had no idea what was going on in the first place.

"I can't believe you let her out," Amon said darkly to Touko.

"I let not her out. She let herself out." Touko replied.

"Anyone want coffee?" said Robin softly.

"I told you not to let her out."

"But she was indeed a very nice girl. I gave her thy phone number."

Amon stalked out in a fit of rage.

Robin sipped her coffee and looked soulfully after him.

…………………

**Whew, long chapter! But it just kept going and going of its own accord. Reading over it again, it all seems a little pointless. Oh well. And Michael didn't get to be obsessed with waffle fries. Darn. I'll have to put that in the next chapter.**

**May Amon never randomly show up and fry all your ketchup with Sullen Glares That Fry All Condiments And Fried Eggs Within The Paths Of Dark Macho Witch Hunters,**

**Hyde**

**_(Ais also sings "Happy Birthday" to AAAN. Or at least until she was asked to stop by civil authorities...)_**


	21. AAAN Celebrates the Feast of St Patrick ...

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. **

**Hyde A/N: I am going bananas. WHERE IS MY FLOPPY DISK? Either SOMEBODY moved it or I hid it from myself, which, knowing myself, it could be either one. Sometime I hide things and then forget where I hide them. Why I would have hidden my floppy disk, I don't know, but I don't always understand the workings of my mind. On another tangent altogether, siblings should be outlawed.**

**Moving on. Anyway, the occurrence of St. Patrick's Day inspired me to write this, the Great St. Patrick's Day Flashback Episode. If you don't like flashbacks, you are out of luck.**

**Those Who Don't Like Flashbacks: Hunt…stalk…kill –bring out torches and pitchforks—**

**Hyde: No, don't hurt me! It's only ONE chapter!**

…………………

Michael sat at his computer and stared at the screen. A little reminder thingy popped up, reminding him that it was March 17. March 17? That looked familiar. Someone's birthday? The anniversary of the invention of waffle fries?

"Happy St. Patrick's Day!" Doujima chimed cheerfully upon entering.

Of course. He chuckled to himself. Doujima had said exactly the same thing a year ago…

begin Michael's flashback—

"_Happy St. Patrick's Day!" Doujima chimed._

_Michael turned to look at her. He immediately turned away, blinded. Doujima was wearing entirely neon green clothing. Even her handbag and high-heeled shoes were the same color._

"_Ow…" he said._

"_What?" She turned to face him._

"_I'm blind…"_

The neon green handbag came swishing towards his head… 

Michael flinched.

"What's the matter, Michael?" Sakaki asked.

"Oh, nothing."

"Okay. You looked like you were being hit in the head by Doujima."

This turned Sakaki's thoughts back to the same day, a year ago…

begin Sakaki's flashback—

Sakaki pulled up to the address that Michael had given him. Doujima was supposed to meet him here.

_I wish witches would take holidays, like normal people, he thought._

_Just then, something bright green caught the corner of his eye. He turned, to see Doujima arrayed in the most blinding shade of green he'd ever seen._

He doubled over laughing. Tears came to his eyes. Doujima's angry face came closer, but he couldn't stop laughing, only gasp helplessly, as the Green Handbag of Doom advanced on his unprotected head…

Sakaki flinched too. He looked surreptitiously around, but no one seemed to have noticed. He ate a Cheeto to calm himself.

………………

Touko sat in Harry's and sipped a cappuccino thoughtfully. Ah, St. Patrick's Day. Her mind wandered around various dips and turns, of St. Patrick's Days past. The earliest St. Patrick's Day she could remember, then increasingly recent ones… Somehow this train of thought led by inexplicable and devious ways to Stewart, her departed coffeepot. In fact, just last St. Patrick's Day…

begin Touko's flashback—

_Touko awoke, stretched, and walked out into the kitchen. Another day. She started Stewart, and began to chat with him absently._

_"Good morning, Stewart. The sun is shining. Isn't that exciting? Amon and I had another date last night. I think I like him more than anyone else. There's something dark and appealing about him, don't you think? Oh, that's right, you've never been introduced. I should remember to do that next time he's over…"_

_Stewart dripped understandingly._

_"Mmm, smells good, Stewie. What ever would I do without you? God willing it will never come to that…" She shuddered at the thought, and the room seemed to dim. Even Stewart's warm steaming seemed cooler and more troubled._

_"Ah, well, see you later!" she said, forcing the gloomy thoughts out of her mind._

Touko slowly faded back to the present. She gulped down the rest of her rapidly cooling cappuccino. If only she had known then…

………………

Robin sat in the front seat next to Amon as they left the hunt. She felt even more uncomfortable with him, since the girl-with-blue-hair-in-the-closet incident. To her, St. Patrick's Day was the same as any other. Hunting, depression, emotional struggles…why should today be any different?

In fact, she remembered a day, not long before the death of Stewart the coffeepot, when they had been riding in Amon's car from a hunt exactly the same way…

begin Robin's flashback—

_Robin sat in the front seat next to Amon as they left the hunt. She turned sideways to look at him. He stared straight ahead without speaking. As usual. She stifled a sigh._

_He seemed eager to get back (if Amon is ever eager), driving at higher speeds than usual. Robin wished to break the silence, perhaps by asking him what the hurry was, but she couldn't bring herself to. His silence, so…almost irritating, and yet so compelling and dark. If only…but there, her thoughts shied away. When he had given her the glasses (her hand touched them in the pocket of her coat) she had thought, perhaps…but ever since there had been little change. He was still distant and dark. But perhaps it was for the best…_

_When they arrived, Touko was waiting for Amon. Robin stood on the sidewalk and stared hauntedly after them as they walked toward Harry's, but they didn't notice. Touko smiled, and Amon looked(relatively) calm and at ease. Feeling a deep, subtle pain in her stomach that no Kylenol can cure, Robin turned and walked into the STN-J building…_

Amon's dark voice startled her out of her reminiscence.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Robin pressed her lips together and felt slightly eased as the silence again closed around them.

**(Hyde A/N: Meet Sad and Emotional Robin Flashback, cousin to Sad and Emotional Robin Scene of chapter 13. These Sad and Emotional Things just keep popping up.)**

………………

Throughout the day, Amon managed to stave off the flashbacks that the Fates threw at him. But not even Amon can escape the Fates. Forced to surrender while he was waking, the Fates went to work with renewed vigor, even as Amon dropped off to sleep…

begin Amon's dream-in-lieu-of-a-flashback—

_"I ate a large COW this morning," said the girl with blue hair._

_Then, her hair was green, and she was wearing shamrock pins all over her denim clothing._

_"It was the LUCK of the Irish," she said._

_"But, I need to find Robin," he told her darkly. "I need to tell her…something."_

_"Don't you remember? You already told her!" Doujima's voice appeared. "Now take that girl out of her closet!"_

_"But she's not in the closet, she's right there," Amon protested._

_"Look again," Doujima answered._

_Amon turned, and there she was, in a closet. But no, it was Robin. He had to get her out of the closet._

_But when he began to walk that direction, something held him back. He turned, it was Touko, grasping at his arm._

_"Thee thy thou thoo shall shalt shalleth…" she babbled._

_Amon pulled his orbo gun, and shot Touko. She relinquished her grasp on his arm and looked at him with horror and betrayal on her face._

_He turned to look for Robin, but she was gone._

"Robin!" Amon cried. He sat up in his bed. It was exactly midnight.

The Fates reluctantly relinquished their hold on him (they were having a lot of fun with this). The St. Patrick's Day of Flashbacks was over.

His phone rang. He picked it up.

"There were TWO elephants at the FAIR yesterday."

………………

**Welp, there it is. A little off subject, but that's okay I guess, unless you have objections to off-subjectness.**

**Those Who Have Objections to Off-subjectness: bring out torches and pitchforks—**

**Hyde: No, wait, I'll try to get back on subject next time, I promise!**

**I think I got high on Nutter Butters today. As a side note. The good news is I AM THE CONNECT FOUR CHAMPION OF THE WORLD! WAHAHAHAHA! **

–**demonic mutterings—**

**May shamrocks never decide to invade the world and subject all wild boars, hamsters, and guinea pigs to slavery,**

**Hyde**

_**Ais: **Eh… I just have to say this. I think this is the bestest chapter. EVER. I applaud Hyde with many applaudings. It tops The Death of Stewart, but don't tell Touko. Actually it reminds me of Noir…_

**_Flashback: blwowlwolwolwowlowowlowly…_**

_**Soldat Watch Theme: **Dingdingdingdingdingdingdingdingdiiinngggdingdiiinggg…_

_**Ais: **NOOO! FIGHT IT, MIREILLE! FIGHT IT!_

_**Mireille: **faraway look in eyes—_

**_flashback to Chibi Mireille begins—_**

_**Ais: **NOOO! –collapse**—**_

**_End flashback: blwwowlwlwlololwlwoyyy…_**

_Eh. Sorry about that. I couldn't help it. Even the Mother Goddess of All Ficness Except Everybody Else's isn't immune to random flashbacks…_


	22. The Rice Bag Incident!

**Disclaimer: I disclaim ownership of everything.**

**Hyde A/N: Well the good news is I found my floppy disk. I didn't hide it from myself, rather I was blind and didn't see it. **

**I think I'm about ready to get rid of the girl with blue hair, but I'm not sure what's coming up next. Hmm. We'll have to see.**

……………

Amon stalked down the sidewalk, muttering things about Touko's stupidity in giving the girl with blue hair his phone number. He had just changed it, and felt slightly better about it, but there was still the problem that she could find him anywhere, apparently.

The witch Amon was supposed to be hunting slipped from his mind as he contemplated ways to get rid of her. Stalking down the street of Tokyo (and scaring small children in the process) he muttered, glared, and connived. Finally, he had it. The perfect dark, elaborate plan guaranteed to get rid of her, at least for now.

He was so pleased, he gave a particularly large dog a Sullen Glare Forcing All Large Dogs of Unpleasant Dispositions To Turn Into Turnips.

The dog did not take this well, and began to hasten after Amon, growling and dragging his poor owner behind. Amon masked his distress and walked faster, placing his hand on the reassuring hard barrel of his orbo gun.

Nevertheless, the dog gained ground. Amon therefore abandoned macho restraint and (keeping his face dark and intense) began to run, his black coat flapping macho-ly about him. He threw Sullen Glares That Thrust Aside All Those Who Impede The Paths of Macho Dark Witch Hunters Fleeing From Large Dogs of Unpleasant Dispositions left and right.

………………

Poor Robin was having a depressing day as usual. She was out shopping for various and sundry items with a mournful, contemplative look on her face when she heard a commotion across the street.

Turning, she got the full and stunning effect of a macho profile of Amon running, with his coat billowing macho-ly behind him. She didn't even notice the dog. Her mind went into shock the moment she saw him.

She turned slightly, her eyes following him up the street. A package of rice slipped from her left hand and fell to the ground, bursting asunder, but she didn't notice. Her large mournful eyes got larger and more mournful, and a faint look of longing crept into them. She moved forward a few steps, perhaps unconsciously intending to follow him.

We will never know, however, because at that moment an anonymous man tripped over the split package of rice and sprawled headlong into her. Snapped thus rudely out of her trance, Robin fell to the sidewalk, skinning her palms. The man scrambled to his feet and hurried off, but she sat there and looked at her palms, and a single tear slipped from her eye and traced its lonely way down her cheek.

**(Hyde A/N: Ahhh! Sad and Emotional Robin Scene II has wormed its way in.)**

……………

Having finally escaped the dog, Amon climbed into the Macho Black Audi and drove to his apartment to begin preparations for his Great Macho Overly Elaborate Plan To Eliminate The Girl With Blue Hair.

……………

Robin walked slowly into the STN-J headquarters. Michael, Sakaki, and Doujima sat around various computers doing various and sundry work-related things. She sat next to Doujima and flipped through a file without seeing it.

Doujima looked over at her.

"What did you do to your hands, Robin?"

"Nothing, I just…scraped them. I fell," She said softly.

"Oh. Have you seen Amon?"

Robin flushed slightly as the memory came back unbidden. "Uh…yes. He…passed by. I don't know where he is now."

"Hmm. Michael, Amon hasn't called in sick, has he?"

"Not that I know of," Michael replied absently.

"I guess we'll have to put off that hunt until tomorrow if he doesn't show up," Sakaki said.

"Well, good riddance," said Doujima. "You know Robin, I still think you should hit him on the head with a mauve umbrella for that girl-with-blue-hair trick."

"It's okay," she said softly. "He apologized."

Doujima nearly choked, and her left eyebrow began to twitch. "Apologized…? Amon…? As in…'I'm sorry'?"

"Yes."

"Beware the apocalypse."

"Pardon?"

"It must be a sign of the apocalypse."

"Oh."

………………

Amon surveyed his apartment with a dark, macho, critical eye. He had drugged all the Bepsi and beer in his refrigerator and locked all the doors and windows except the front window. He had a large roll of packing tape sitting on the counter. A large amount of stamps were waiting handily in the drawer.

Surely she would come tonight. It seemed likely. And Amon was ready for her.

dramatic music—

………………

**Not a very long chapter but I didn't feel like finishing the whole thing with the girl with blue hair in this chapter, so I didn't. Feel free to have problems with that if you wish.**

**As a side note to St Earns who inquired, I liked Azumanga Diaoh and yes, Chiyo-chan was…hypnotically cute. I only got to see about half of them, maybe less than that, but it was strangely addictive. What I really want to do now is go back and watch WHR again. I haven't seen it in quite a while now.**

**Well, may turnips never do hypnotic dances upon your television,**

**Hyde**

_(Ais says: Sorry bout the wait, everybody including Hyde. I am in eternal remorse. I might also add that I had a very similar thing to Robin's Rice Bag Incident happen to me last week, except it involved a supersized bag of popcorn, a shopping cart full of both breakable and heavy foodstuffs including six dozen eggs and five cases of various soft drinks, three random people hell-bent on going through the aisle at the same time, and an unusually loud intercom. I hope the mental picture makes up for the wait.)_


	23. The Bepsi Incident!

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Believe me.**

**Hyde A/N: The great dramatic conclusion to the getting rid of the girl with blue hair has arrived. All hail.**

**All: --hail—**

………………

The long awaiting knock on the door. Amon bolted to his feet, and then walked sedately (yet darkly) to answer it.

He was inwardly disappointed (although he refused to admit it to himself) when it proved to be only a pizza guy with the wrong apartment number.

Amon stalked back to his couch. Surely she would come. Surely.

………………

"Heading home, Doujima?" Karasuma asked.

"Yep."

"Me too. I should stop by and check on Amon on my way. He never showed up today. Oh, rats, I can't, I'm supposed to tape something for a friend and it's coming on in ten minutes."

"Well, I can't," said Doujima. "I don't think he would let me in anyway."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Partly just to ease it, Robin said softly, "I will."

"Oh, thank you, Robin," said Karasuma. "I owe you one."

"No problem," Robin said softly, trying to sound sincere.

………………

Another knock on the door. Amon walked wearily towards it, half expecting another pizza guy.

But upon opening it, there she was, in all her blue-and-denim glory. He motioned her in, and locked the door behind her.

As he had calculated, she went straight for his refrigerator. Pulling out a Bepsi and opening it, she chugged it and disposed of the can.

"I'd like a word with you," she said.

He merely looked at her, giving no dissuasion or encouragement.

"What were you…" Here she seemed to lose her place and fall into a trance as the fast-acting sedative took hold. Amon strode quickly and darkly to a closet and pulled out a large ventilated box. He placed it behind her and she sank into it, mumbling incoherently before dropping off to sleep.

Immediately, Amon took action. He closed the lid, and sealed it with the large amounts of packing tape that he had on hand. After assuring himself that she had no route of escape, he began to cover the box with stamps. When he judged the number was sufficient, he hefted the box, carried it macho-ly to his car, and headed for the post office at a high, macho rate of speed.

………………

Robin stared unseeingly at the file. She couldn't put it off any longer.

"Michael, I'm leaving," she told the hacker softly.

He made no response, his headphones turned up to maximum volume and waffle fries in his mouth.

"Michael," she said, slightly louder. Still nothing. She went over and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Huh? Whuh?" he turned around sharply, startling her. He pulled his headphones off one ear.

"I'm leaving."

"Okay. Whatever."

………………

Amon returned to his apartment, a dark, smirk-like, slightly akin to a smile-ish expression on his face. The girl with blue hair was on her way to Luxembourg, first class.

He went to his fridge and pulled out a Bepsi. He'd already taken a large macho slug before he remembered that they were drugged. He threw the can against the wall in frustration. Brown liquid seeped down the wall and soaked into the carpet.

He felt a little woozy, but tried to convince himself that he wasn't. It worked, sort of. Amon is good at not admitting things to himself.

………………

Robin stared at Amon's door and tried to force herself to knock. It wasn't working.

Inside, she heard a muffled thump. (Unbeknownst to her, Amon had just run into a wall when aiming for a doorway.) Worried, she knocked before she even knew what she was doing.

About three minutes and two thumps later, the door opened.

"Robin."

"Uh, you weren't at work today…" she trailed off, overcome with embarrassment.

"Was Miho worr…ied?" he asked.

Robin noticed the slight hesitation, and was confused for a moment. Then she realized she hadn't replied.

"Yes."

"I'm fine…I had…some business to takecare…of."

"Amon, are you…okay?"

"I'm fine."

There was an awkward pause.

"I'm fine," Amon said again.

Another even more awkward pause, with some confusion on Robin's part.

"I'm fine," Amon said again, more to himself this time.

"Amon…"

"I'm fine!" he snapped. "I'm fine…" He wandered away, leaving the door open.

Robin peered in. Something was wrong. Amon never wandered. She noticed the brown stain on the wall, but didn't know what to make of it.

She watched as Amon bumped into the couch.

"Oomp. I'm fine…" he said.

He set off in another direction. Robin rushed forward and stopped him before he could run into the kitchen sink.

"I'm fine," he told her.

She guided him toward his couch. "Sit down," she said gently.

He sat down carefully. "I'm fine," he repeated again. He leaned back, and drifted off to sleep, mumbling incoherently in what might have been Arabic.

Robin was about to leave when she looked back and saw the Bepsi stain. She found an ancient moth-eaten sponge under his sink and cleaned it for him. Then she left, closing the door softly behind her.

………………

There we are. One more chapter done. I wonder how far it's going to go. This is…uh…23. And I have an idea for the next nuisance. Who knows.

**Please feel free to review. Reviews make me happy. Of course, to avoid hypocrisy, if you're too lazy like me sometimes, that's okay too.**

**May mushrooms never blossom under your kitchen sink,**

**Hyde**

**_(Ais is taking bets on whether or not the next nuisance will be _Amon vs. The Pasta Bar_. But that's just Ais. You know… her poor innocent brain and stuff… --sigh—) _**


	24. The New Nuisance!

**Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing. I'll be sure to let you know if I do.**

**Hyde A/N: Introducing: --drumroll— The New Nuisance. I think this is going to be fun, but we'll see.**

**--evil smile—**

**Amon: --runs in fear—**

………………

Amon slowly came to life. He groaned. He moaned. He pried his eyes open. Unfortunately, a sunbeam happened to be on his face. He winced as pain exploded in his forehead and he became blind.

He rolled to his feet and stumbled blindly in what he took to be the general direction of the kitchen. He had one thought on his mind and it was coffee.

He ran into a doorway. Oops. As he walked through it he suddenly ran full tilt into something soft. After a few moments of wrestling with the soft thing and trying to find his orbo gun (which wasn't in his coat as usual) he realized the soft thing was a bunch of miscellaneous black coats and he was in the closet.

After untangling himself, he cracked open his eyes and moved toward the kitchen, avoiding the various indistinct blurs that were his furniture. On the way, he noticed a white blob on the floor by his door. Going closer to examine it, he discovered that it was his mail for the past two days. Two days?

Amon's mind went blank. He had no idea why he had been asleep on the couch for two days. Puzzling over it, he sifted through his mail.

Junk, junk, bank statement, junk, letter from Abigail, electric bill, junk, phone bill… Amon paused and backed up a few. Letter from Abigail? He tore it open.

_Thus says the Omnipotent Mother Goddess:_

Thou stupid man! Never resolve thy problems by mailing them to Luxembourg. As punishment, and so thou shalt learn a lesson, I sic on thee the AADOM.

Abigail 

Suddenly, it all came rushing back. But what was AADOM? Or who?

Amon's head hurt too much to worry about it. He had to get to work.

………………

"AMON! WHERE THE HECK HAVE YOU BEEN?" Doujima cried as soon as he entered the door.

Amon winced inwardly. His head still hurt.

"We are SO behind. Amon, are you listening to me?"

He wasn't really. Then Kosaka appeared.

"AMON! WHERE THE HECK HAVE YOU BEEN?" he bellowed, even louder than Doujima. Amon winced inwardly even more severely.

"That's what _I_ said," Doujima said indignantly, but no one paid any attention to her.

"I've been indisposed," he said.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I have a hunt to do. Robin, Karasuma, let's go."

"AMON!"

He walked out. Karasuma shrugged and followed him, and then Robin behind her.

………………

Amon wordlessly sent Karasuma and Robin to the front while he took the back alone. He wished he could have taken some Kylenol, but he had still not figured out the intricacies of opening childproof bottles.

Nearby, two old ladies huddled together, clutching their umbrellas tightly in their wrinkled hands, their small beady eyes peeled.

"Don't look now, Marge," said one to the other, "but I think I see one by that window over there."

Marge checked Amon out surreptitiously out of the corner of her eye.

"Good eye, Betty. Now, go for it, girl. We're rooting for you. Everyone is hoping you'll make it."

"Me too," said Betty with a dry chuckle. "Well, here goes nothing."

………………

Amon heard footsteps approaching in the distance. He turned, but it was just a little old lady. He tucked his gun inside his coat so she couldn't tell what he was doing. He turned back and peered in the window.

"HIYAHHH!" he heard behind him.

Whack! Something hard made firm contact with his arm. He turned, and the little old lady went for his face.

"Take that, you creepy man!" she shrieked, wielding her umbrella with surprising ferocity.

Amon did his best to ward off her frenzied blows. He backed away, but she kept advancing. His hand bumped something: a doorknob. In one fast, fluid, and very macho motion he opened the door, ducked in, and shut it behind him. She pounded on the door for a few moments and then left.

Amon straightened and peered into the dim light. Just then, Karasuma and Robin came pounding around the corner, Karasuma with her gun drawn and ready in front of her and Robin with her glasses on.

"What was that?" Karasuma asked him.

"Nothing."

"Oh." She seemed puzzled. "Well, the rest of the building is clear. He's not here anymore. Although he would have been three days ago when you were 'indisposed.'" She gave him a glare, but he ignored it.

"Let's go," he said. They followed him out.

………………

"You're in, Betty," said Marge. "Good work."

"Thanks."

"Welcome to the team."

"I can't believe it. Was I really that good?"

"Oh yes. He ran like a frightened rabbit. Sometimes they…fight back." She said the last with a dramatic flourish.

"Oh," Betty looked slightly distressed.

"Let's head back to headquarters," Marge suggested.

"Right."

Betty and Marge toddled off.

………………

**Kinda short this time, but it seemed like a good place to stop, rather than getting into something else.**

**Please review! I shall be happy and shower you with ice cream and lilacs.**

**May your cat never leave mouse guts lying about for you to step in,**

**Hyde**

****

**_(Ais's Afterward: Oh Lord, I forgot, I completely forgot. There are good reasons why I forgot though!If such a thing is possible!Anyways...this chapter is perhaps two months late... for what it's worth, my modem got hit by lightning and Hyde's computer is still insane. And I had pretty much the last chapter of Amon and Laundry finished too... at least I think I did... eek. Maybe things will get back to their compartive slightly-saner-side-of-insanity one of these days... _**

**_---Aisling)_**


	25. My God, It's A Chapter!

**Disclaimer: You s****hould know by now that I don't own anything, but if you don't, now you do.**

**Hyde A/N: Woo, I feel weird today. Maybe it's lack of sleep. Must…find…caffeine…**

**Anyway, um, I think maybe I was going to say something about the lateness of the last chapter and my intention to get this one up much faster, but now I'm not. So enjoy.**

_**Ais sez: **Good morning/afternoon/evening/night. This is Ais, of course. This Hyde chapter is posted some months after it was written. If you think that's bad, her birthday is in early April, and she got her present in late July. So she wrote this around her last birthday and it's now almost my birthday. That, my friends, is a long time. Sorry, computer death was a part of the lateness. The other, larger part is that Ais is just a slacker and somewhat of a bad best friend. Hey, at least I TRY! Have fun. Especially with the macho dark waving hair. Hyde doth rock._

………………

In a deserted area, the macho black Audi sat motionless. Through the tinted window, Amon's profile could be indistinctly seen. He was staring hard, straight ahead, not moving (except for the occasional macho and dark waving of his hair). From the dashboard, the bottle of Kylenol sat staring back. Amon, though the master of the Sullen Glare, blinked first.

Amon closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his headache and the bottle were still there.

Suddenly restless, he grabbed the bottle and opened the car door, climbing out and setting the bottle on the hood of his car, staring at it as though he expected it to suddenly pop open on its own.

His frustration mounted, and finally broke the tension. He swatted at the bottle, knocking it to the ground. He watched in fascination as it rolled a few feet away and stopped. It paused for a moment, and then the cap fell off, spilling a few pills onto the street.

Had Amon not been Amon, he would have smacked his forehead. As it was, he stooped over, picked up the bottle, and ground the cap and spilled pills under his heel, as natural as drawing his orbo gun and as naturally and expertly as if he ground things under his heels twice daily for a living.

………………

"Darn it, Marge, we haven't seen a single one in two hours!"

"Isn't that a good thing, Mildred? It means we're doing something right!"

Mildred sighed in response, and her fingers clutched her cane tighter, until her knuckles turned white.

Marge noticed her tenseness. "It's okay, Mildred, be patient."

"Marge! I see one!" Mildred gasped excitedly.

"I see who you mean. Look at the dark threatening manner in which he's grinding something under his heel!"

"Okay, partner," said Mildred, "Let's go. Remember, keep your cool."

"I'll be fine, Millie. We've done this together ten zillion times, and every time you tell me that, as though I were just a green recruit!"

"Sorry Marge. Let's go."

Mildred and Marge hobbled off, clutching their respective cane and fuchsia umbrella tightly.

………………

Amon swallowed a hefty dosage of Kylenol without the aid of water. He then leaned against the hood, giving the topless bottle a Sullen Glare That Reduces All Stubborn And Contrary Bottles Of Medication To Small Piles of Rubble.

Suddenly, Amon's finely honed witch hunter senses tingled. He turned just in time to see a fuchsia umbrella hurtling toward his aching head. He ducked, and it swished by, his macho dark hair rippling in its wake. But the old lady wielding the umbrella was not inexperienced. She came back with a devastating blow aimed at his back.

He turned, and it glanced off his side, hardly seeming to faze him. Though Amon usually used his orbo gun to solve all problems (especially those involving violence) one thing Amon did not do was pull his orbo gun on little old ladies (non-witch ones, that is). For a few minutes he skillfully fended off the fuchsia umbrella, but the little old lady was as persistent as he was. It seemed that the battle would go on forever.

Then Amon saw something move out of the corner of his eye. It cracked into his head, and everything went dark.

………………

Mildred stood over Amon with her cane still raised in triumph.

"Good shot, Millie. I was beginning to think he'd hold out forever."

"I didn't kill him, did I?"

"I hope so, but I don't think so. Come on, it's back to patrol now."

Mildred turned back to Amon. "If it wasn't against the rules, I'd finish you off!" she growled, shaking her cane at him.

So they left, leaving Amon to lay there in a black heap, the sun melting the Kylenol on the pavement beside him.

………………

"So you haven't seen him since you left?" Doujima asked.

"Nope," said Karasuma. "That was…six hours ago."

"He was supposed to be coming back here?"

"Yes."

"Michael?" She turned to the hacker.

"I've been trying, but he's not answering."

"Great. Amon's gone missing again. What do we do?"

"I'll go check his apartment," said Karasuma. "The rest of you, just go around the city looking. Michael, keep trying to get him on his communicator."

"Gotcha," Michael replied.

Sakaki muttered something dire about Amon. Robin looked worried. Doujima noticed.

"Don't worry, Robin. He can take care of himself."

"I know."

"Personally, I can't wait to give him a major chewing out," Doujima added. "We were behind already. He can't just disappear whenever he wants to."

They dispersed to search.

………………

Robin motored through the streets, looking hopefully at every black car and every person wearing a black coat. As she kept going, the streets kept getting more deserted.

_I should turn back,_ she thought.

_But then again, you never know with Amon,_ she retorted to herself.

_He's going to be in _so_ much trouble,_ she thought.

Down a side street, she noticed a black car. Turning, she headed for it, not really hoping. As she approached it, she saw it was an Audi. She pulled up next to it. Squinting through the tinted windows, she saw his communicator. But the car seemed deserted.

"Amon?"

She climbed off and walked around to the other side of the car. She didn't realize at first what the black heap was. Then she saw his oh-so-familiar pale face.

"Amon!"

………………

As he slowly came back to life, the first thing he saw was Robin's face. It was blurry, and he blinked to clear it.

"Amon!" she said, "Are you alright?"

He moaned and tried to sit up. Looking around, he saw that he was in the STN-J headquarters. He faintly heard Robin saying in the next room, "He's awake."

Karasuma was the first in the room. "Amon! What the heck happened?"

He moaned again.

Next came Doujima. "Amon! What the heck happened?"

He moaned even louder and turned away.

"Amon," said Karasuma, "You've got to tell us what happened!"

"No," he mumbled thickly.

"What?"

"I don't want…go away…"

"Amon!"

"I'm not…going…talk about it…"

Karasuma heaved a frustrated sigh and she and Doujima left.

Robin still remained. As she approached him, he mumbled, "I'm not…going…talk about it…" again.

"It's okay. You need some rest," she said softly. She put her hand on his shoulder and gently urged him to lay back down, which he did. Then she left, turning off the lights as she went.

………………

That night, Robin stayed with Amon at the STN-J headquarters, as he still didn't feel well enough to be moved. She sat beside him for a while, looking at his relaxed, sleeping face. Then she got up and walked out. Michael was asleep. She was alone.

Walking over to her computer, she sat down and buried her head in her hands. The tears, the shock, all that she had repressed earlier, came rushing back, and she laid her head down on the desk and cried softly until she drifted off.

………………

Yes, it's Sad and Emotional Robin Scene III. But I can't help it.

**--puts away box of tissues and emits a few parting sniffles—**

**Okay. Wow, that was a pretty long chapter. Well, longer than last time. Yay! **

–**does a victory dance involving the waving of arms and legs and the strewing of flowers—**

**May your cheese never mold,**

**Hyde**


	26. The Mob Incident!

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this chapter. If someone tries to tell you otherwise, he or she is an international spy trying to trick you into buying large amounts of Cheetos from an obscure foreign country.

**Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to the fictional Abigail DeNoel and her equally fictional sisters, who were the great Inspiration for this fic. (Yay oatmeal! Yay blackberries and mashed potatoes!) And of course to Ais, who was the other half of the great Inspiration that inspired the fictional Abigail DeNoel (and her equally fictional sisters of course). **

**Hyde A/N: Hello all. As you probably noticed, I have started a new thing: dedications! Yay Dedications! **

**Anyways, let the fun begin! (I have a feeling this is going to be a very fun chapter.) Please keep your hands inside the vehicle at all times and turn off all cell phones, pagers, and small children. **

**Ha! I crack myself up.**

………………

The morning after the attack Amon, slightly high on Kylenol, strode purposefully toward his black Audi. As soon as he had woken up he had called for Robin and for Kylenol. Once his massive headache had receded, he had closeted himself in a cramped cubicle and spent an hour clattering away on his computer. The results of his searched had turned up little but an address, and it was toward said address that he directed his macho black Audi.

He left the other STN-J members puzzled. The prevailing theory was that he had suffered brain damage, but he could not be persuaded to go to the hospital. Even Robin's pleas fell on deaf ears. Now Robin was wandering sadly around headquarters, wondering and worrying. Amon had been so strange lately.

Oblivious to Robin's sufferings on his part (and to the many pedestrians that he was nearly mowing down) Amon finally came to a stop a few blocks away from his destination. He darkly consulted a high-tech handheld GPS device. Satisfied, he placed his hand on his orbo gun to reassure himself and stalked the last few blocks.

The high-tech handheld GPS device and the number above the door confirmed that the anonymous brick building in front of him was indeed the one he was looking for. He concealed himself in the bushes and watched. After a few minutes, a large quantity of little old ladies began showing up. Some chatted among themselves, others merely stalked by, glaring at the world in general. Fifteen minutes later, they stopped coming.

Looking around cautiously, Amon slunk out of the bushes and approached the door. A small discrete sign at the top of it said "AADOM Headquarters." He opened it a crack and peered inside at the dim hallway. There seemed to be no one there. In the distance he heard the high-pitched cadence of little old voices. He slipped inside as smoothly as an eel holding an orbo gun at the ready might have. The hallway was deserted. At the end of the hall, a door was open with a light shining from within. Flattening himself against the wall, he slowly crept toward it, for it was also the source of the little old voices.

He approached the door and hid behind it, as it was swung out towards him. On the door he could barely read a sign declaring "AADOM" and under it, something in fine print. The light was poor, so Amon was forced to whip out his sleek discrete magnifying-glass-disguised-as-a-cigarette-lighter. Peering through its lens, he could barely make out "Association Against Dark Ominous Men."

Were he not Amon and had he not been within hearing of the little old ladies, Amon no doubt would have said, "Ah-ha!" As it was, he confined himself to a slight raising of the macho left eyebrow and a slight twitching of the macho nose. He then gave the sign a Sullen Glare That Reduces To Cinders All Offending Signs Declaring Sentiments Against Dark Ominous Individuals. The sign seemed to shudder, but it might have just been a passing breeze.

Amon then turned his attention to the voices inside, which up to that point he had been blocking from his mind in order to focus all his finely honed witch hunter senses on the door. Now he sent the door to the oblivion in the back of his mind and began to listen intently.

"Any sightings or encounters to report?" inquired a screechy old lady's voice, which seemed to be in charge.

There was a pause. "Hilda, you may have the floor," said the screechy voice.

Hilda took the floor and made her report in a distinguished old lady's voice. "I was on patrol in Sector 5 when I spotted a pair of furtive-looking men. I followed them for three blocks, but I lost in the warehouse district. They are to be considered Suspects At Large."

"Thank you, Hilda. Mildred, Marge, you may have the floor," said the screechy voice.

A lower, more nasally one took its place. "Marge and I were on patrol in Sector 17 when we spotted an obviously dark ominous man…grinding something under his heel, wasn't he, Marge?"

Marge, a medium rasping voice, replied, "I believe he was."

"So we moved in and gave him a pretty severe beating," continued Mildred. "He is to be considered Severely Injured to Dead."

"Thank you, Mildred and Marge," resumed the screechy voice. "Anyone else? No? Alrighty then, your patrol assignments are on the bulletin board. We will reconvene as usual the day after tomorrow, same time, same place. And now, before we leave, let us all join together in saying the Oath."

There was a prolonged rustling and scraping of chairs as the AADOM members stood. When they had finally all gotten to their feet, the screechy voice led a barely intelligible cacophony to the following effect:

"I, as a member of the Association Against Dark Ominous Men, pledge my services in the effort to rid the world of those unfortunate creatures. I will not rest until I have fulfilled my oath to the best of my abilities. I declare dark ominous men to be menaces to society" (here a few vicious growls were heard from those most passionate members) "and fully deserving of death, maiming, and/or severe dismemberment." (even more vicious growls from those most passionate members) "I ask no reward for my noble task, but undergo my service to society faithfully and without complaint, until my dying breath."

At the end, those most passionate members let out a collective screechy "Amen!"

"Now," said the screechy voice, "please join me in a moment of silence to remember those who have suffered severe beatings and/or broken limbs for the sake of the Effort, and are unable to be with us today." The moment of silence was duly undergone, and then the screechy voice dismissed the members.

As the members began to chat ear-gratingly among themselves, Amon realized that he had a problem. Upon their exiting, the members would no doubt catch sight of him, no matter how farsighted they might be. Amon hid behind the door as much as possible and held his breath as the first few sets of hobbling footsteps approached.

The first few passed by without taking note of him, but a little old lady with sharp eyes that belied her many years spotted him.

She let out a shriek and then started hysterically screaming, "I found one, I found one!" Amon was suddenly surrounded by a cluster of little old ladies screaming at him in their excitement, menacing him with umbrellas, handbags, canes, and groceries (one was even wielding a large straw hat, having nothing else of a violent nature on her person at the moment).

"It's him!" cried someone, either Marge or Mildred. "He's not dead, he's alive!" There was a large jostling in the crowd, indicating that Marge, Mildred, or both were trying to get through.

Amon, meanwhile, was weighing his options. They didn't train you to deal with mobs of little old ladies in witch hunter training. He finally decided on a course of action, and no sooner decided than done. He brandished his orbo gun, mustered his most devastating Sullen Glare That Teleports To Various Foreign Countries Mobs Of Little Old Ladies Attempting To Kill, Maim, Or Severely Dismember Dark Ominous Individuals, and made a rush for the exit. They gave way partially against this sudden onslaught, but still managed to inflict a few glancing blows on his fleeing, macho-black-coat-clad back.

(Hyde A/N: Mwahahahahaha! Severe Dismemberment! -–brandishes imaginary fuchsia umbrella with an evil smile—)

Amon burst out onto the street, closely followed by the mob. He took a smooth left turn, headed for his car. For all their littleness and oldness, they kept pace well. As he saw his car near up ahead, he glanced back. They were far too close for comfort. He decided that his macho black car was not a good battleground, or a prime place to make a stand, so he passed it by, as darkly as though he were nothing but a shadow.

It was a bit of an incongruous sight. Amon, however, refused to admit to himself the ridiculous figure he posed. He barreled down the residential streets without embarrassment. After all, if one's macho image is not spoiled in one's own eyes, that is half the battle. Amon just plain refused to feel ridiculous.

Amon glanced at a passing street sign, orientating himself with the ease of a witch hunter (it is quite important that witch hunters never get lost; it could be quite inconvenient). It took him but a moment to realize that he was going to be unable to avoid a more crowded downtown area. It did not cause him but a moment's passing concern; he refused to feel ridiculous, and he never really gave much thought to the welfare of the general populace. It did not occur to him that the chase could possibly be the cause of mass chaos in the streets.

But there was nothing he could have done about it anyway. He continued to run. The mob continued to keep pace as a whole, although some of its members with less stamina had begun to lag. Unfortunately for Amon, even those lagging members kept going, clutching their means of violence all the more tightly, hoping to get in on some of the action, however belatedly.

Amon looked up, his macho black hair trailing macho-ly behind him, and saw the first busy intersection looming ahead.

………………

In one of those interesting coincidences, Robin happened to be at the busy intersection as Amon was approaching it, waiting to cross the street. As soon as the clamor of irritated voices alerted her to his presence, all the world disappeared into the background and she saw nothing but Amon, dodging cars with the rugged smoothness of a wild stallion, his hair trailing behind like said stallion's mane. It was only when her view of his now retreating back was blocked by the mob that she was even aware of its existence.

Immediately worry struck, she pushed past those clustered around her, craning their necks for a better view of the chase, as though they were as intangible as ghosts. She followed them as they turned into an alley, a dead end alley, as it turned out. She watched anxiously from the rear as they clustered around the trapped man. Could she stop them in time, before they beat the witch hunter to a pulp?

--trilling violins indicate extreme suspense—

You'll just have to find out next time. This chapter is plenty long enough, longer than usual in fact, although still not horribly long. Oh well. I should get something posted. Otherwise the general populace will no doubt die of suspense wondering what AADOM is. :)

Mmm. I better finish this up before I fall asleep. –drifts off into a half-waking stupor—

May your hair never join a dark conspiracy to take over the world that involves mass amounts of Gorgonzola cheese (I just learned how to spell Gorgonzola the other day, isn't it fun?),

Hyde

_Ais is sick, but Ais posts for Hyde anyways, partially because Ais cannot walk sucessfully. Ais has new fic in works. Sing songs of joy. May the third person and Moab's raisen cakes be with you.Ugh._


	27. The Clinic Incident!

Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing at all. Nope. Not WHR not anything. ANYTHING. Disbelieve those who might try to convince you otherwise in order to sell you insurance, like Mr. Llama.

**Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to that personage who is great and worthy of adulation, namely P.G. Wodehouse, who for those of you not yet enlightened on the subject is in my opinion the greatest writer of humor EVER. Yes indeedy.**

**Hyde A/N: Heil Spode! –snork—I couldn't resist. Well, there's your random Wodehouse reference for the day. Moving on. Welcome to That In Which The Identity of AADOM is Finally Revealed Part II. As you may recall, we last left Amon in a dead end alley, surrounded by little old ladies, and Robin watching anxiously from the rear, ready to come to his rescue. **

………………

Robin began to press her way forward through the mob. Being just a little shrimp of a thing, she managed to wriggle her way through the mass of cotton dresses characterized by long-outdated floral prints. Reaching the epicenter, which was Amon of course, she did the only thing she could think of which was pushing aside the nearest pounding umbrella, half flinging herself onto Amon, and cloaking them tightly with a wall of fire.

This threw the little old ladies, who erupted into screams and retreated from the lump of flame that had once been their prey. There was an initial stampede, in which nearly half of the AADOM members were trampled underfoot. A few lingered, whether by reason of having the good sense to do so or being too traumatized to move it is uncertain, but these after the initial rush from the battlefield began to assist those more severely crippled. Slowly the alley emptied, and the traumatized squeals receded into the distance. Robin released the fiery shield and slumped to her knees, her face even paler than usual from the exertion. Amon knelt next to her, dazed from the many blows he had received.

After a few moments Robin recovered sufficiently to rise to her feet and tug Amon to his. He didn't seem to be quite conscious, but he didn't resist her.

"We should take you to the hospital, Amon," said Robin softly, her voice unable to belie her exhaustion.

That aroused him from his stupor.

"No, no hospital," he said. "We have to get to work."

"Amon, you shouldn't be working in this condition," she protested.

"I'm fine," he said, putting out a hand to steady the brick wall next to him, which seemed to be leaning dangerously from one side to the other.

"We're going to the hospital," she said, noticing his dizziness, a trait quite uncharacteristic of Amon.

"No."

"Amon, you can't work like this."

"I'm fine. Fine. Fine…" his voice died away as though he had lost track of it in a crowd.

"At least go home and rest."

"I have to work." Having brought the wall somewhat under control, he set off purposefully, if not quite in a straight line.

"Amon, where are you going?"

"To my car."

She hastened after him and fastened on to his arm. The whole way back to his car she reminded him over and over again that he couldn't go back to work in his condition, and over and over again he protested that he had to.

"Amon, maybe I ought to drive."

This suggestion offended him even more than the suggestion of a hospital visit.

"NO. I'm fine."

"Amon, I don't think…"

"I'm fine."

They climbed in. Amon pulled away from the curb with less than his usual macho smoothness.

"Amon…" said Robin nervously. He ignored her. "Amon, maybe I should…" He didn't even look at her. Sighing, she crossed herself and fought the urge to close her eyes.

At three consecutive intersections, Amon came perilously close to sideswiping three cars. Robin began murmuring uneasily. In the space of three blocks, five pedestrians nearly became so many pedestrian pancakes. Robin's murmuring increased in velocity. She suggested twice to Amon that perhaps he should slow down, but her suggestions were ignored and she gave up.

The macho black Audi approached a red light. _Please let him see the red light,_ Robin prayed. The car did not slow. The intersection seemed deserted. _Thank goodness,_ Robin thought. Suddenly a dark sedan, one of that breed which are everywhere and apparently multiply like so many rabbits, appeared out of nowhere.

"Amon!" Robin screamed. He slammed on the brakes and came within inches of the black sedan's bumper. The black sedan also screamed to a stop. Amon leapt immediately from the car and began a yelling and glaring match with the driver of the sedan. Robin seized the opportunity and slipped into the driver's seat.

Amon wasn't quite sure why he was exchanging incoherent words and dark Sullen Glares That Turn All Drivers Of Black Sedans Into Fried Mush with the driver of the black sedan, but it seemed to be the thing to do, and so he did it, and made little headway probably because neither he nor the Black Sedan Driver could understand a word the other was saying. It didn't really bother them, though, and neither showed signs of slacking.

Something brushed against his coat and he turned and saw that it was the door of his macho black Audi. The window was rolled down, and Robin looked up at him from the driver's seat and said, "Come on, Amon, get in."

He complied, still slightly confused.

Before he knew it, they were in front of the Anonymous Clinic Of An Anonymous City In An Anonymous Country.

"See, Amon," said Robin, gesturing toward the discrete sign on the front of the building. "It's completely anonymous." _A little too anonymous perhaps,_ she thought to herself.

"I'm not going to the hospital," he said.

"This isn't a hospital," she said patiently. "It's a clinic. An extremely anonymous clinic."

He looked at her darkly for a moment and then asked, as though it had just occurred to him, "Why are you driving my car?"

"Never mind," said Robin. "Come on. We're going in."

They got out of the car. Robin feared that perhaps she would have to drag him in by the sleeve of his macho black coat, but to her surprise he did not mount any serious resistance, but merely stalked grudgingly to the door beside her.

Upon entering, they encountered a secretary with slightly pinkish hair behind a counter.

"May I help you?" she inquired nasally.

"We…he needs to see a doctor please."

"You don't have a prior appointment?"

"No."

"Well, that's alright. We'll work you in. Is this your first time at the Anonymous Clinic?"

"Yes."

"Well, take this clipboard and while you're waiting," she gestured toward a group of slightly pinkish chairs, "fill out this form."

"I thought this was anonymous," said Robin.

"Oh, we don't ask for any personal information," the secretary reassured her, thrusting the clipboard into her hands. Robin headed for the pinkish chairs, with Amon in tow.

"Um," she said, pen poised at the top of the form. "Amon, you have to pick an anonymous name to go by."

"A what?"

"A fake name. To use here."

"Oh." He sat there silently. Robin couldn't tell if he was thinking or overwhelmed by the idea.

"How about George?" she suggested tentatively.

He gave her a deadly Sullen Glare Explicitly Used In Cases Of Young Blonde Witch Huntresses Attempting To Name Dark Sullen Individuals George.

"X," he said.

"X?" she replied uncertainly.

"X."

Mentally shrugging, she wrote a large 'X' on the appropriate blank. "Allergies?"

"None."

"Chronic illnesses?"

"No."

"Mental illnesses?"

"No." Not as sure as he on that point, Robin paused, then marked the paper. Oh well.

Robin returned the clipboard to the secretary. They waited for about half an hour, both staring at either the slightly pinkish carpet or the slightly pinkish haired secretary (which unnerved said secretary not a little). Finally she called for "X" and took them down a hall to a white door. Robin came along, not certain she should be leaving Amon alone with anyone.

They were greeted by a tall heavy man with a receding hairline. He moved toward them slowly and with as little excess motion as possible.

"Which one of you is 'X'?" he inquired.

"Him," said Robin, pointing.

"Very well. I'm Doctor T. How can I help you?"

Both he and Robin looked at Amon, who stood there stolidly and sullenly, studied the ceiling, and ignored them.

Robin sighed. "He's been beaten up. Somewhat. He already had a concussion."

"I see. What sort of symptoms, if any, is he having?"

"Um, dizziness, disorientation…Am…ah, X, do you have a headache?"

He shook his head slightly.

"Well, that doesn't mean anything, he probably wouldn't tell me if he did."

"I see. Let's take a look here." Dr. T approached Amon…er, X, slowly and ponderously. As he went, he slowly produced a small light from his pocket. He and his light advanced toward Amon's eyes, intending to examine therein.

As quick as lightning, Amon's arms flashed and suddenly Dr. T found himself staring down the barrel of an orbo gun while his wrist was clenched in an iron grip.

"Eeep," said Dr. T, and his light fell from his now nerveless fingers and hit the slightly pinkish carpet with a dull thump.

"Don't touch me," said Amon darkly. In the blink of an eye he released the doctor, slipped his orbo gun back into the dark recesses of his coat, and headed for the door.

"Amon," said Robin, but he was gone.

She turned to Dr. T. "I'm sorry…"

"It's okay, it's happened before," he said, rubbing his wrist. "I'd say just bed rest for a few days. If he has a persistent headache or any new symptoms, try to get him in here or somewhere."

"Thank you very much," she said softly. She turned and slipped wraith-like out the door, and before the doctor had hardly noticed, she was gone.

………………

Wee, fairly long chapter. And it's about time it was done and posted. No cliffhanger this time. That used to drive me crazy when I would read a book and the end of a chapter would be some major cliffhanger. It seemed rather pointless to me. Anyway. Enough rambling. Come on, Hyde, focus, finish chapter. As I said to someone earlier, I feel like an ameba with three brains today. Hmm, I wonder if that's how you spell ameba. I don't trust the Spell Check. AHK! Focus! Finish chapter! –hyperventilates—

**May multitudes of small children never appear in your bedroom and run around in circles doing ancient Native American dances with your sweaty socks,**

**Hyde**


	28. The Marriage Incident!

Disclaimer: Guess what? I have this disclaimer thingy up here that says I own nothing below, and it means you can't sue me, and that makes me happy!

**Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to my toe-licking cat, because he's just a sweetie like that. Awwwwww! Cute kitty! –hits self in head- Focus, Hyde, focus. I can't focus today. I don't feel like an ameba with three brains, but I still can't focus. Hmk. Anyway. Moving on.**

**Hyde A/N: Better watch out, cause I'm in a rare Random Dance Mood today. Yep. Have you ever tried to do something leading with one foot and then, just because you feel like it, turn it around and lead with the other foot and find that it is impossible or takes all your powers of concentration? Anyone? Well, I have today. That's the Random Dance Mood effect. I'm sure you wanted to know all that. **

………………

Amon stalked out the front door of the Anonymous Clinic Of An Anonymous City In An Anonymous Country and slammed it behind him. He gave a deep meaningful grunt. Finding this to be very therapeutic, he followed it with a deep dark Snort of Distaste.

Across the street, a woman looked up. Amon, looking about for his Macho Black Audi, noticed her. You see, Amon, despite his natural tendencies to slink darkly through the shadows everywhere he went, was used to getting odd looks, like the What The Heck Is This Guy Thinking Look and the Disturbed What-Is-Society-Coming-To Look and of course the Menacing Glare Of A Little Old Lady Preparing To Give Chase With A Brightly Colored Umbrella. He was not, however, accustomed to getting a Stunned Look As Though The Sight Of Dark Ominous Personages Causes One To Be Beaned In The Back Of The Head With A Large Snow Shovel, which was what he was getting from the blonde across the street.

Somewhere deep under his dark and impervious exterior, Amon felt a slight twinge of discomfort. It was not, he felt, in good taste for people to give dark ominous personages looks as though beaned by a large snow shovel. He slid into his Macho Black Audi and was just preparing to pull out onto the street when someone tapped on his window.

As soon as Amon had rolled down his window, the stunning blonde who had done the tapping began jabbering breathlessly.

"Oh, good, I was afraid I wouldn't catch you or you wouldn't talk to me I have to tell you, or ask you rather I suppose, you know the moment I saw you I had this funny feeling, say, do you believe in love at first sight?"

There really was no good answer to this, and Amon merely stared at her blankly.

"Well I always have and even if I hadn't I would now because I just now felt it like none other, say, you'll marry me, won't you?"

There really was no answer to that one either. Amon continued to stare, and a muscle in his left eyebrow twitched twice.

"Good because ever since I saw you like three seconds ago I knew we were meant for each other and there could be none other if you know what I mean it was definitely love at first sight I mean what else could hit you like that wow, that was a shocker but there it is and here I am and now let's see, were you set on a church wedding?"

Amon blinked, but otherwise maintained the impervious blank stare of a dark ominous man who has just discovered a hippopotamus in his bedroom and has no idea what to do with it (seeing as, like with proposing blondes, it is probably illegal to shoot non-witch hippopotami with orbo guns). Seeing no other option, in one smooth move he turned, stepped on the gas pedal, dodged two oncoming cars, rolled up his window, and disappeared into the distance.

Robin emerged from the Clinic just in time to see Amon speeding away. Heaving a sigh, she set out on foot for the nearest bus station.

………………

Twice on his way back to work, Amon forgot where he was going and turned towards his apartment and, as a result, Robin was already there waiting for him.

"Amon," she tried to begin as he strode darkly past her without a glance, "Amon, you should go home…" she trotted to keep up with his broad steps, "Amon!"

When Amon strode purposefully into the STN-J headquarters, Robin was still behind him protesting. As all the present STN-J members turned simultaneously to stare at her, she became slightly flustered and clamped her mouth shut, allowing Amon to leave the room unassailed with the intent of finding an assignment.

"What's going on, Robin?" Sakaki asked.

"He's had another hit on the head. He's been acting a little strangely. The doctor said for him to get bed rest, but he won't."

"Amon acting strange? That's not unusual," commented Doujima.

"If I know Amon," said Karasuma, "you'll have to sedate him to keep him from working."

"Sedate him! Of course! Sleeping pills!" cried Doujima.

Michael, Robin, and Karasuma gave her strange looks.

"Yeah!" said Sakaki, "I'll go get some."

"Uh, how are we going to get him to take them?" asked Michael dubiously.

"Coffee," said Doujima firmly. "It disguises the taste of any poison."

"This isn't poison," Karasuma pointed out, "And besides, Amon doesn't drink coffee."

"Oh yeah. It'll have to be Bepsi then."

Doujima disappeared in search of a Bepsi and Sakaki in search of the pills. When they returned, they carefully dissolved enough pills to knock out a small gorilla into the Bepsi.

"Here," said Doujima, thrusting the cup at Robin. "You give it to him. He'll never suspect you."

Robin winced inwardly, but took the cup. _It's for his own good,_ she thought. _I hope._

………………

"You didn't have to stay, Robin," said Michael softly in the half-light of the lone lamp. "I could've handled it."

"I know," she said.

"It's really late, you can go home. It won't take more than one person to drug him again if he wakes up."

She gave a sigh so subtle as to be inaudible. "I feel…responsible…" she said with difficulty, surprised even as the words left her lips that she would be able to confide in the hacker.

"You aren't. Really, I'm not sure who is." (No doubt he would have been surprised to discover the fault lying with the Great Mother Goddess.) **Hyde A/N: For those of you who may have forgotten due to the long passage of time, Abigail sent Amon a letter telling him of the Doom of the Great Mother Goddess, in the form of the AADOM, for shipping the Girl With Blue Hair to Luxembourg** "The whole story confuses me. Why would a mob of old ladies chase Amon?"

There was a pause, and then he answered his own question. "Well actually, why wouldn't they? He does appear rather…ominous…to those who don't know him."

"And to some of those who do," Robin added.

"Yeah." He sighed. The atmosphere of the room eased into a comfortable silence.

Robin stared at Amon's face. So pale. Slowly his hair and dark coat blurred into the semidarkness around him, but his face remained in focus until the last moment before she slipped accidentally into sleep.

Michael in turn watched Robin's equally pale face, and did nothing to disturb her as he watched her sink farther and farther toward sleep. He stared at her as though hypnotized until the wee hours of the morning, when he finally gave in to a deep craving for waffle fries and left the room to raid his secret stash in a false bottom of a file cabinet drawer.

When he returned he felt distinctly sleepier, and before long was slumped on the floor in an extremely uncomfortable position, having slid out of his chair, lost to the world. And so the three slept undisturbed in the comfortable companionship of those who do not plan on waking up any time soon because either they are drugged or have not slept for almost 24 hours, until Miho came early to relieve them.

………………

Well, I suppose I could take this farther but this seems like as good a place to stop as any. Mmm, I'm tired and it seems to be putting me in a more…something sort of mood. Different anyway. I look back and notice that the last section of this chapter just suddenly has a complete change of tone. Oh well. They say variety is the spice of life. You know, I really don't like little sayings like that. They make so much sense that it's irritating, but yet they are also so over-used they mean nothing. Wow, I must be tired. I feel like I'm rambling. Maybe I should just end this chapter, what say?

May your house never be invaded by professional football players who have gone over to the dark side and are trying to take over the world using little but their muscles and some tinker toys,

Hyde


	29. The Adorable Incident!

**Disclaimer: Do not own. End of story. **

**Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to the real Cream Puff The Impossibly Adorable White Kitty. SO CUTE! AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! Okay, now that we've got that out of our system…**

**Hyde A/N: Hmm. Not much to say. Except that PG Wodehouse shall conquer all! MUAHAHAHAHA! **

………………

First there was a blurry light and a feeling of floating on a sea of weightlessness. Then, as the blurry light condensed, Amon slowly settled down onto solid ground. He blinked, startling himself. He was staring at his ceiling, not thinking at all, his mind numb and blank.

A strange rumbling sound recalled him somewhat to himself. Slowly, he turned his head to the left, the rest of his body completely inert, and found himself eye to eye with the rumble.

Amon shot to his feet and groped for his orbo gun. For the next three minutes Amon stood there motionless, pointing an orbo gun at and having a staring contest with the most adorable thing he had ever seen.

"Me-ew?" said the smallish white kitten. Tiring of the staring contest, it lowered its head and began to systematically wash one adorable white paw. Amon didn't move.

Finally he slowly brought the gun down, convinced that the kitten was not going to self-detonate, at least for the moment. Suddenly he realized that nothing made sense. Why was he in bed, in broad daylight, with his macho black coat on, with a white kitten next to him? Shooting the kitten a suspicious look, he backed out toward the kitchen/living room area of his apartment.

With a very strong feeling of déjà vu, he looked at two days worth of mail on the floor by his door. Hadn't he been in exactly this same situation before? No, last time he woke up on the couch, after drugging himself accidentally by way of a heavily drugged Bepsi. Had he knocked himself out with a Bepsi again? He couldn't remember doing so. He couldn't remember anything. It was all a fog.

He picked up the mail and flipped through it. Junk, junk, bill, junk, letter from Abigail, junk, bill, junk…Wait! He backed up. The déjà vu hit hard. A letter from Abigail. He began to wonder if he had only dreamed waking up last time.

Something touched his ankle. Dropping the mail all over the floor, he leapt back and brought out his orbo gun. The impossibly adorable kitten looked up at him uncomprehendingly. "Mew?" it inquired. Amon sent back a Sullen Glare Intended To Transport To Mars All Suddenly Appearing Adorable White Kittens. It made no impression on the kitten, whose cuteness and still-on-this-planet-ness was undiminished.

"Mrrow," the white kitten said firmly, and wandered off to the kitchen. Amon watched as it delicately lapped at a puddle of water in the sink with a tiny pink tongue. Giving himself a mental shake, he turned back to Abigail's letter.

Thus says the Great Mother Goddess:

"Her name is Cream Puff. No, Abigail did not put her there, I let her in. She needs a home. DO NOT mail her anywhere. You know now the power of my wrath, small pale mortal. Greater dooms await than the AADOM if you are not cooperative."

May the Great Mother Goddess ever guide your steps,

Abigail

Amon looked at the kitten, then at the letter, then at the kitten, then at the letter. He snorted under his breath. He looked at Cream Puff, and snorted louder.

"Mewk!" Cream Puff replied, giving him a full force Adorable Stare Calculated To Melt The Hardest Of Hearts.

Just then, a knock sounded on the door. Amon opened it and beheld Doujima, dressed in blinding pink.

"Amon! You're awak…I mean, where the heck have you been?"

Amon stared at her.

"Mreow," Amon heard behind him. Immediately he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"A KITTEN!" Doujima shrieked. "IT'S SO CUTE!" She blew past him, and the next thing Amon knew Doujima was sitting on his couch with Cream Puff in her arms.

"Where did you get her, Amon?" she asked, scratching the kitten's delicate white ears.

"Mutter."

"A pet is just what you need, Amon. Here, hold her," she dumped the kitten into Amon's arms, "while I find something edible for her."

Cream Puff, unintimidated by Amon's dark ominous countenance, clawed her way straight up to his shoulder, where she perched contently. Doujima chattered unintelligibly from inside a cupboard.

"Amon, what do you eat?" she asked, emerging with a layer of dust in her hair.

"Bepsi," he said darkly.

Doujima paused, not entirely certain that he was not telling the truth, and then turned to the refrigerator.

"Ooh, I found a hamburger that isn't quite covered in mold! Here kitty kitty, you can have this, such as it is."

Cream Puff leapt from Amon's shoulders and devoured the patty hungrily. Doujima stroked her lovingly.

"Awwww…she's so hungry! What have you been feeding her?" she turned a full force Patented Doujima Accusatory Stare on him.

"Mutter," he said, turning to set his mail on the couch.

She sighed. "Amon, you've got to get her some cat food. Kitten food, preferably."

Amon sent back a look that was half questioning and half incredulous.

She sighed again. "Come on. I'll show you." He followed her dubiously outside. She went for her car, and he went for his.

"Come on, Amon, no use wasting gas, just hop in with me."

Amon sent her an emphatic Sullen Glare That Firmly Reprimands All Slightly Ditzy Blondes Who Attempt To Tell Dark Ominous Personages To Do Any Hopping Of Any Kind.

She sighed, and climbed in the passenger seat.

…………………

Later, and well stocked with the appropriate kitten food and flea medicine, Amon and Cream Puff sat in his living room, watching each other. Amon wondered how often this thing was supposed to eat. Cream Puff was no doubt wondering what she'd gotten herself into.

A knock on the door jolted them both from their respective reveries. Amon rose to answer it and Cream Puff stretched lazily and followed him.

Seeing Robin on his doorstep, Amon's first emotion was relief that it wasn't Doujima again.

"Amon. Are you…alright?" she asked softly.

"I'm fine."

There was half a moment's awkward pause before Cream Puff intervened.

"Mreeew?" she inquired, poking her head around the door.

"Aahh…" a half sigh escaped Robin's lips before she was struck completely dumb by the extremely adorable sight. She knelt and stretched out a hand. Cream Puff sniffed it and then rubbed her head against it.

"Oh…" said Robin. She scratched the kitten behind the ears.

"Preewk!" said Cream Puff in appreciation, and began to purr loudly.

"Oh, Amon, she's precious!" said Robin in a half-whisper.

"Mutter."

"Oh, can I hold her?"

"Mutter."

Robin scooped Cream Puff up. "What's her name?"

"Mutter."

"She looks like she would be a Cream Puff."

"Mutter!"

"What?" she turned her face up to look at him questioningly, and Cream Puff did the exact same thing at the exact same moment. The complete and total adorableness of the picture before him caused even Amon to pause before replying, "Nothing."

"So what IS her name?"

Amon forced himself to say the words out loud, and it almost killed him. "Cream Puff."

"Wow. I guessed right."

He gave a half nod.

"You're coming to work tomorrow?"

Nod.

"Good. See you there." She shyly handed him Cream Puff and the kitten crawled to her perch on Amon's shoulder.

Amon stood there after she left, until he realized that he was standing on his own doorstep staring into space with a kitten on his shoulder. He quickly retreated inside and slammed the door.

……………….

**Aww, I can just see Robin and Cream Puff.**

**Ha, I finally managed to motivate myself enough to finish this chapter! I thought this would be an easy chapter to motivate myself to, considering the Cream-Puff-ful-ness, but no. I don't know why.**

**May you never discover a herd of small ostriches in your dryer,**

**Hyde**

_**This is Ais from the balcony: I can verify Cream Puff's adorableness. I have to thank Hyde for this chapter. I can safely say it is my favorite so far. I can also say, as official secondary spell-check aficionado and poster of fanfics, that Hyde misspelled 'refrigerator' repeatedly. **_

_**May small packets of conveniently pocket-sized Kleenex never dance upon your head,**_

_**Ais**_


	30. The Fainting Incident!

**Disclaimer: I get tired of putting disclaimers on everything, but I'd rather not take any chances. I'm not eager to be sued, you know. Anyway. I do not own anything in here. This is just the roamings of my little mind. If you have issues with it, you can just ignore me.**

**Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to St Earns, my favoritest and most dedicated reviewer. Yay St Earns!**

**Hyde A/N: With luck, this chapter will be posted by me myself and not Ais! No, my computer is no more reliable than it was before. But I have discovered that if I use the computers at school, it can be done! Except for some reason won't always come up on the school computers. It makes no sense. Faugh. That's all I have to say about that.**

…………………

Amon woke the next morning to behold not his bedroom ceiling but a white blob with black eyes. He shot upright and Cream Puff, who had been perched on his chest making a detailed investigation of her new owner's nose, tumbled down and landed half under the covers. She emerged, shook herself, kneaded her paws on Amon's leg, and cleaned a small spot on her tail. Amon shook his head, muttered, and crawled out of bed, trying to forget the adorable creature thereon.

Just then, the phone rang.

"Greetings, Amon. Mightest thou take me on a date tonight? Thou and I hath not been alone together in many a night."

"Mutter mutter."

Touko took this as an acquiescence. "Pick thou me up at the stroke of seven. I eagerly await thy arrival, as doth Abigail the Breadmachine. Farewell, O Amon."

"Mutter."

"Yowlk!" said Cream Puff in his ear. Unnoticed, she had clambered up to his shoulder, intending to resume the investigation of his nose that he had so abruptly put a stop to.

"Mutter," Amon said darkly, no doubt intending to convey the pain in his eardrum along with his desire not to have a small white kitten on his shoulder, however impossibly adorable.

Cream Puff jumped down and strolled over to the kitten food bag, rubbing her silky cheek against it. "Mreeeew!" she said plaintively.

Amon reluctantly poured some food into the small Hello Kitty dish (picked out, of course, by Doujima).

He looked at the clock. Too early to leave for work. Oh well, he could always go to Harry's first. The abundance of cuteness in his apartment was starting to wear on his Dark Ominous Nerves.

………………

The first thing Doujima did when she bounced in (late as usual) was to loudly exclaim, "How's your kitten, Amon?"

Slam! Just like that, Amon was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

"Amon has a kitten?" Sakaki inquired dubiously.

"Yes, a small white one."

"Doujima," said Karasuma, "How many times have a warned you not to drink tequila in the morning? You know what it does to you."

Doujima glared at her. "It's true!"

"Yeah right," said Michael.

"It's true," Robin put in softly. "I saw it."

Sakaki's jaw dropped. Then he and Michael simultaneously burst into laughter.

"Shut up, guys," said Karasuma. "Amon will gun you down if he hears you. Seriously."

"Where…ha…did he get…haha…a kitten?" Michael inquired between lingering chuckles.

"I don't know," said Doujima.

"He's coming back," said Robin, who had wandered to the door, her mind on what Amon must be thinking right now.

Amon opened the door on a quiet room. Too quiet. He stalked to his desk and flipped angrily though a file. Curse the Great Mother Goddess!

Suddenly, his witch hunter senses tingled and he dove aside, just in time to avoid being smashed by a very heavy box that fell from a high shelf.

Robin watched curiously as Amon sent a Sullen Glare Intended To Sauté All Vengeful Goddesses In The Near Vicinity into space.

………………

Amon and Touko sat in an anonymous fancy restaurant and sipped respective beers and margaritas.

"Amon, thou my dearest, shall we now repair to thy apartment and have a cozy evening chat?"

"We could go to your place," he said.

"No, Robin shall be there, and I desire not to disturb her. Thy place wouldst be better."

Amon sighed inwardly and muttered to himself under his breath.

"Didst thou speak?" Touko inquired.

"No."

…………………

Amon approached his apartment with Touko on his arm and serious misgivings plaguing his mind. Touko chattered lightly as he flipped on the light.

Suddenly, there was Cream Puff at her cutest.

"Awww, a kitten!" said Touko.

"Mreew!" said Cream Puff sweetly and adorably.

"So…cute…" said Touko, and overwhelmed she sank to the floor in a genuine swoon.

Amon caught her and carried her to the couch. Cream Puff climbed up and sat on Touko's arm. Amon was just considering fetching a stagnant Bepsi to hold under her nose in lieu of smelling salts when she stirred.

"PrewEEK!" said Cream Puff sweetly and imploringly.

"Ah…" Touko had no sooner opened her eyes and beheld the adorable ball of fur when she fainted again.

Amon glared at Cream Puff and went for the stagnant Bepsi. He popped open the can and held it under her nose. She stirred.

"Amon…? What…" Just then Cream Puff let out an adorable "Mroww" from his shoulder and she was gone.

Amon reached up and flicked Cream Puff off his shoulder. She began to cry loudly.

"MROW! MREEEW! MREEEEEW!" Amon would not have been surprised to hear reports that the crying had been heard in Luxembourg. He glared at her, but she ignored him.

Touko stirred. "Amon…what…that noise…" She sat up. Spying Cream Puff, she cried out, "Oh Amon, she weepeth!" Then the adorableness of the crying kitten overwhelmed her and she fainted once more.

Muttering under his breath, Amon grabbed a box that had been sitting randomly in the corner and upturned it over Cream Puff, effectively muting her so that her cries could no longer be heard outside of Japan.

He then scooped the unconscious Touko up in his arms and carried her out the door.

…………………

**Well, as usual the next chapter has taken forever. Someday maybe I'll actually start posting new chapters within a reasonable time. Heh. Maybe. I am an incurable procrastinator, even about fun things like writing chapters. I don't know why. Oh well. Cream Puff is adorable, and that's all that matters.**

**May you never find that your worst enemy has filled your refrigerator with spoiled cheesecake,**

**Hyde**


	31. Kitten' is Not a Manly Word

**Disclaimer: Mutter mutter. You know how it goes.**

**Dedication: This chapter shall be dedicated to Starbucks. Long may it live. **

–**moment of silence—**

**Hyde A/N: Hmm, I haven't had Starbucks since that Mocha Frappuccino (oh dear I probably did NOT spell that right) in the beginning of May. Ah sweet memories. **

**Ugh, I hate mosquitoes. So annoying. Well, the bites especially. Grr.**

**Enough chitchat. Moving on. Wow, I'm super surprised that the spell check didn't yell at me about chitchat. I guess it's an official and well established word. Cool.**

………………

Amon draped Touko on the examination table and retreated to a corner, watching the doctor with an absent Sullen Stare as he examined the unconscious Touko.

"You, ah, did, er, anything seem to cause this?" the doctor inquired nervously.

"A cat." Amon muttered abruptly.

"A cat? Ah, hmm, that's…interesting. What kind of cat?"

"A white…kitten." Amon almost choked trying to force the very un-macho word "kitten" out of his mouth.

"Ah, what exactly, happened?"

"She saw it. She fainted. She woke up. She saw it. She fainted. Revived her with Bepsi. She saw it and fainted. Woke up again, saw it, fainted."

"Hmm, er, Bepsi…ah, well, um, thank you, that was quite, to the point…" here he trailed off as the Sullen Stare intensified slightly, as if to say, it would be nice if you would do the same, my good fellow. Well, maybe not the "my good fellow" part.

"Er, so she saw the cat and, uh, fainted?"

A Sullen Glare Which Firmly Chastises All Doctors Who Ask Stupid Questions In Nervous Stuttering Voices And Have Difficulties Getting To The Point answered him.

"Ah, hm, well, it sounds like she's either allergic to cats(which is unlikely given that such things usually induce sneezing, runny nose, itching, watery eyes,…and, ah, such) or cuteness."

"Is that a 'joke,'" Amon inquired darkly.

"No no no, um, it's been known, in rare cases, quite similar to this one, I ah happen to have studied the subject in medical school, in a class about rare diseases and disorders…" Here a Sullen Glare veered him back on topic. "Erm, anyway, there's really nothing you can do about it except keep her away from anything extremely cute…" the doctor attempted to smile but it turned into a nervous tic.

"Mutter," said Amon, intending perhaps some form of thanks. The doctor choked and made some sort of gargling noise in his throat, perhaps intended to mean "um…you're welcome."

The doctor quickly revived Touko with some smelling salts and they were on their way.

………………

After briefing Robin on Touko's condition, Amon headed for home. Cream Puff greeted him by cutely and innocently knocking the bag of kitten food onto the floor. Amon merely blinked, wondering how she'd gotten out from under the box.

He plopped down on the couch. For that matter, where was the box? He found a few shreds of cardboard on the floor, but they didn't add up to a whole box. He began to nose around and found pieces of it under the couch, then under the table, then under the refrigerator, and under practically every piece of furniture he owned. There were also renegade shreds upon the television, in the sink, and in the shower. Amon looked and her.

"Mewrow!" she said sweetly.

"Mutter," he said wondrously.

"Mewk," she replied, as if to say 'just doing my duty.'

Cream Puff then disappeared into the bedroom. Relieved of her presence, Amon turned on the television, with which she tended to converse when present.

A few moments later something landed on his head and he heard a proud "Mrrrew!" in his left ear. He brushed it off and a partially disemboweled mouse landed next to him on the couch.

"Mrrowow," said Cream Puff to the television, pressing her little pink nose against it.

Amon strode macho-ly to the bathroom and vomited.

…………………

As Amon was rinsing out his mouth, his communicator beeped. It was Robin.

"Amon, Touko's disappeared! Please come now, I'll explain later."

Amon dashed for the door, nearly tripping over Cream Puff three times and nearly landing on the disemboweled mouse, which set off a round of queasiness. He fought down the nausea and stepped on the gas pedal.

………………

Amon muttered as he struggled though the note in his hand.

"Robin,

"Alas for this day! Never again shall I be able to behold cuteness, for it is hazardous to mine health. Alas! What is life without adorableness to break the bleak night of a world of witches and conspiracy and cheap tequila? Bid thou for me farewell to mine Amon. Though he may try his best to break the bleak night he be not cute or comforting, merely a presence strong and enigmatic. Even he cannot save me. Therefore I flee from the bleak night! Whereto, thou inquirest. And well thou mightest. But look for me not, on the lone prairieeeeeee! Oh wait, that is "bury me not." Well, bury thou me not on the lone prairie either, but among things of light and cuteness. Methinks I stray from mine subject. Search for me not, for I have fled and fallen, for my life is a dark, dank and meaningless waste. Do not try to help me, for I fled so that thou mightest not help me, oh helpfulest of Robins, I desire not help but only despair and cold numbing darkness. Give Daddy mine love,

"Touko"

"Does this mean something?" Amon inquired.

"Not much except that she has given up hope and wants to be left alone to live out the lonely years of her life without cuteness," Robin replied.

"Oh. What does cheap tequila have anything to do with it?"

Robin shrugged. "She must have been so far gone she was rambling. We have to find her."

"I should notify Zaizen."

"Perhaps it would be best if he didn't know. Perhaps we can find her first. She couldn't have been gone for more than 45 minutes when I returned from the store."

"Grunt," Amon said, imparting nothing.

"The fact that she left a note at all is probably a cry for help."

"I thought she didn't want help."

"Just because she said it doesn't mean she means it."

"Grunt," said Amon more confused than he had been in a very long time.

"Come on, let's ask around," she said, pulling on her long overcoat.

"Mutter," said Amon, meaning "I'll drive."

…………………

I am very proud to announce that the real Cream Puff the impossibly adorable white kitten is now the proud mother of three kittens of her own, one of which is an impossibly adorable white miniature of herself with the addition of two little black flecks on its forehead. Ais may attest to the extreme cuteness of the kittens, as she has seen them herself. At this point they mostly squirm around on top of each other, eat, and sleep. The Real Cream Puff is very proud of herself and is not defensive of her kitties at all, so one can approach them all one wants.

**I get to have liver for lunch today! Yay! I love liver! It makes me happy!**

**May a schizophrenic butcher never attempt to cut your steaks with an antique guillotine,**

**Hyde**

**PS: Yes! I spelled schizophrenic and guillotine right on the first try!**

Aisnote: The White Kitten of Cream Puff looks very much like Tama from _Kamichu!_, Yurie's cat/poverty god. I can attest to this, too.


	32. The Chicken Says 'Squish'

**Ais sez: Sorry this chapter took so long to get up—my internet went out. . I love this chapter. 32 already? Wow, Hyde! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Disclaimers have a way of getting old. See previous 31 chapters for disclaimer.**

**Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to mango ice cream from Iwataya Japanese restaurant. It is quite yummy (Ais, again, can attest to this, and also to the yumminess of the green tea flavor). Yay ice cream! Yay witnesses to its yumminess!**

**Hyde A/N: I'm always glad when people review and tell me that I have another reader. It makes me happy. My work here is not in vain! Yay! I feel so loved…sniff**

**I have SO had liver twice in a span of like two weeks. It's exciting. Liver makes me happy. And so does butter pecan ice cream. And Lord of the Rings, of which soundtrack I just got done listening to for almost an hour. Does that sentence make sense? I can't decide. Oh well.**

P.S.—Yes, Hyde does actually love liver. Also a strange substance called 'tomato.' Ais cannot understand this concept.

…………………

As Amon and Robin headed for Harry's to begin their search for Touko, Robin pulled out her communicator.

"What are you doing?" Amon asked, stomping on the gas pedal and nearly escaping a three-car pile-up.

"We can't search all of Tokyo ourselves. Doujima is off tonight too. She can help."

"Mutter."

"If she hasn't been drinking tequila," Robin added as an afterthought.

"Mutter."

Doujima met them at Harry's. Neither the proprietor nor any of the customers had seen any sign of Touko, so they prepared to split up.

"I'll check some of her friends and the other members of the Elizabethan English Forever Club of Japan," said Robin.

"Amon," Doujima interrupted, "Are any of your underworld contacts good for anything except the acquisition of large dangerous illegal weaponry?"

Amon shot her a brief Sullen Glare, resenting the disparaging reference to his Secret Room of Huge Dangerous Weaponry. Wait, how did she know about the Secret Room of Huge Dangerous Weaponry?

"I'll check the mall," Doujima was saying enthusiastically.

"The mall?" Robin said dubiously.

"That's where I go when I get depressed."

"Oh."

"There are a lot of…cute…things at the mall," Amon pointed out.

"Oh. Well, I call all the nightclubs then!"

"Uh, okay," said Robin, as Amon shook his head in despair.

"I'll drive around; maybe she's just walking somewhere," Amon said.

They split up. Robin got in to Amon's car so he could take her back to get her Vespa. Amon hung back and snagged Doujima's arm.

"Do not…drink…anything," he said softly but firmly into her ear.

She gave him a Doujima glare and flounced off.

………………

As he scoured the streets for Touko, Amon made a phone call. Someone picked up on the other end.

"Hello, what does a cow say?"

"Quack," Amon answered. "Could I get a cheeseburger?"

"One moment please." There was a thunk and some rustling on the other end and a new voice came on.

"Hello, what does a chicken say?"

"Squish," Amon replied. "I need to discuss the whereabouts of a certain shipment of parsnips."

"The second one?"

"No, the third one."

"Affirmative," said the voice, and they both hung up.

Amon pulled in at a large fish market and slouched ominously next to a bin of squid. A few minutes later another customer approached the squid bin. Amon ignored him, but slid an envelope containing a photo and description of Touko under a small squid.

"Look through them until you find a good one," he told the customer as though making polite conversation. He stalked away. The customer surreptitiously snagged the envelope and went to pay for an assortment of fish and shrimp he was holding.

Outside Amon drove around for four more hours with no luck and then returned to Robin and Touko's apartment for a rendezvous with the girls.

It was no luck all around. Well, I guess it depends on how you look at it.

"I gave my phone number to ten cute guys and three really hot guys and one really rich guy who was sorta cute…" Doujima was telling Robin.

"Oh really?" said Robin, not sure how to respond.

"Oh yeah, and I gave Miho's number to this ugly drunk guy," Doujima tittered.

Robin smiled but her eyes were pleading with Amon "Can we move on now? I'm getting worried."

"I'll take care of it," Amon's eyes responded darkly.

"But you didn't see Touko?" he interrupted her almost accusingly.

"Uh, no."

"No one had seen her?"

"No."

"Then we'll look again in the morning."

"But we have work in the morning," Doujima pointed out.

"Finding Touko is more important than work."

"But what about my beauty sleep?"

Amon sent her a Despising Glare in reply.

"I'll see you in the morning then," she sighed, and went for the door.

Robin opened her mouth to say something and then didn't. Amon, as though sensing this, turned and said, "What?"

"We don't know where she is…I feel bad, sleeping instead of looking for her. What if something happened…"

"Don't worry. I've got people looking for her. Professionals." He put his hand on her shoulder.

"Okay." They stared at each other in silence for a moment. "Good night," she said. His hand fell from her shoulder and he turned to go.

"Give my regards to Cream Puff," she added. He paused and then left muttering to himself.

Robin went to the door and watched him drive away.

"He cares about her so much," she whispered to herself, staring out into the darkness that had swallowed him up.

Then she turned and closed the door and began to let down her hair for the night.

…………………

Aw. Sniff sniff. Another Sad Emotional Robin Scene has worked its way in. They always just seem to happen all by themselves. Maybe I'm in a Sad Emotional Scene mood after having just recently watched The Place Promised In Our Early Days.

**But anyway. Another chapter done! I'm beginning to wonder how long I'll keep this up. I hit the 150 review mark. Yay! Miniature virtual party for self and all reviewers past and present!**

**May a squadron of Orcs armed with silly putty never besiege your house,**

**Hyde**


End file.
